Lost Little Birdie
by InsideMyBrain
Summary: Modern AU. Gilbert Beilschmidt, a seventeen year old runaway, has built his empire from stolen computers and stolen wifi. Now twenty-one, he runs his kingdom smoothly, efficiently. When Matthew Williams, new to the streets, tries to pick his pocket, the two band together. However, it doesn't take long before they realize they're in grave danger. PruCan, hacker!Prussia
1. Prologue

Gilbert Beilschmitt ran away from home at seventeen.

It wasn't like he wanted things to turn out like this, and God knows he hadn't planned on it. It just sort of... Happened.

Throughout most of his life, he was generally happy. In primary school, the other kids didn't mind his silver-white hair and red eyes. While it was rather unsettling, they were children. The children were more accepting of him than their parents.

Every once in a while, some brat had to pull up his appearance in front of everyone and mock him, but he could defend himself pretty well. And his younger brother, Ludwig, always had his back if things went bad.

It was when he got to high school that the bullying started to get bad. They called him _demon, goth,_ and _fag._ He retorted they left out awesome.

It was also around this point that his parents marriage started to blow up, his brother became distant, and he realized he was gay. Gilbert felt alone, really truly alone, with no-one to understand the confusing thoughts that swirled in his head.

He told his brother first. He was sixteen, his brother fourteen. Ludwig was understanding, even told him he had a crush on a boy himself.

The two preserved each other's secrets for a year before Gilbert felt ready to tell his parents. By then Ludwig was dating his crush, a sweet Italian named Feliciano.

He told his parents on a Sunday evening, after he'd spent the entire day working up the nerve. He was sure his mother would accept him, but his father... It made him queasy thinking about it.

He sat them down at the dinner table, and methodically explained that he'd started liking boys three years ago. He said he didn't care if they accepted him or not, but this was the way he was and nothing was going to change that. He looked up from his knees, where he'd been intently staring for the entire speech, and the expression on his father's face was too much to bear.

It was bright red, livid with rage, tears pricking his crow's feet. His hands were clasped together tightly, but that didn't disguise the fact that they were shaking.

He was in shock for a second, then he started to yell.

Horrible, awful things, things Gilbert gasped at, things that stabbed his very soul with shame. How dare you, he yelled. On a Sunday, too. You have tainted the Beilschmitt name. I can't look at your face anymore. You disgust me.

Gilbert didn't cry very often, but that night he did. He burst from the dining room and ran upstairs, the tears marking his path like bread crumbs in the forest of broken hearts.

He spent a week preparing. It was a horrid week, his father shunning him and making comments, his mother awkwardly trying to console him, his brother out at all hours of the night with his _Italian boy-toy._

Every time he took money from his father's wallet, or spent time memorizing his credit card numbers, he pictured his father opening up his bank account and seeing it had been emptied.

After he'd gathered all the money he could, he threw a couple outfits and his computers in a backpack and left.

For a week, his father had been saying he could just go ahead and move right out if he was going to like boys like that. And that was perfectly fine with him.

He'd left a note for Ludwig. He told him not to worry, and to tell his mother that he loved her. He also reassured him that he hadn't said anything about him and Feliciano.

He spent a year working odd jobs, hitch hiking, squatting, and mooching other people's (and occasionally Starbucks') wifi, until he had a moderately successful website. It was a website where people could post their opinions, confessions, give and receive advice from him or any other user. He moderated it himself, so hate was rare.

And then the golden day came. The day he discovered online advertising.

Now it wasn't just a hobby, it was his full-time job. The checks were addressed to an anonymous mail box which only he knew about. He claimed an abandoned house, and set up camp there for his website. The government kept that house for tax purposes, so he was all covered there. As his website grew in popularity, so did his paychecks.

By his twentieth birthday, he had his own place and full-time job, and he knew the web like the back of his hand. He wasn't just a teenage runaway, he had managed to slip out of the noose and build himself an empire. And he knew exactly what he wanted for his birthday: A new name.

He visited a friend he hadn't seen in a while, but who knew how to do basic tattoos. And he'd understand, because even though his name was Francis, everyone called him France.

Using a needle and a pot of ink, France tattooed a roman eagle onto Gilbert's wrist, and from then on, he answered only to Prussia.

* * *

 **hello guys... Hehe... I kinda just wrote this on a whim, i have really no idea where its going or what's gonna happen. Plz reveiw! I would really appreciate it, this is my first hetalia fic and i hope ill do well.**


	2. Chapter 1

Prussia sipped his coffee and sighed, feeling his head begin to clear. It had been a tiring day, someone had started a comment war on a simple post asking for relationship advice, and it turned into an argument about religion. Damn trolls.

His mouth turned up in a smile when that thought entered his head. Pretty ironic that he should think that when he, himself, trolled so many websites on a daily basis. He opened up his laptop and logged in, quickly connecting to the Starbucks wifi. Prussia checked all his accounts, posted on a couple forums, and drank more coffee. Then it happened.

His backpack, which contained his jacket and several electronics including an iPad, was being tugged on. It was a very small, almost imperceptible tug. Prussia recognized that tug, it was the kind of silent, discreet tug that someone who doesn't want to be caught does.

He didn't turn around right away. He waited until the tugging stopped, then whipped around and clamped his hand onto the wrist of the tugger.

The man jumped and gasped, dropping Prussia's camera right away. Luckily, it was a piece of crap and Prussia didn't mind when it smashed on the ground. The man was kneeling on the ground, getting his dirty blue jeans even dirtier on the wet Starbucks floor. His light blond, almost red hair and the shoulders of his red hoodie were covered in snow, and his glasses, which shielded brilliantly purple eyes, were crooked on his face. His hair, Prussia noted with amusement, had one single curl sticking up out of it. He was breathing heavily, either from guilt or something else Prussia couldn't tell, and a light blush was settled on his cheeks like the snow.

"Sorry!" Was the first thing he spit out. Prussia raised an eyebrow. Here was a pickpocket, albeit a bad one, and the first thing he says upon getting caught is sorry. "I didn't mean to break your camera."

"I know. You meant to steal it." He countered, reaching out for his coffee with one hand and still holding the pickpocket's wrist with the other. _Prussia: one, shitty pickpocket: zero,_ he thought triumphantly.

The pickpocket's earnest face faltered a bit. "Yeah, I did." He admitted. "Sorry."

 _There he goes again!_ Prussia thought. _No pickpocket apologizes!_ He was unable to keep the smile off his face. "So, birdie," Prussia started, instantly giving the man a nickname, "What are you doing picking pockets when you obviously don't know how?" He took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I'm kinda strapped for cash right now..." He said.

"That's why we all do it." Prussia said. The man nodded, then did a double take as he realized Prussia said 'we'. "Yeah, I do it too, sometimes. Not as much as I used to, but occasionally for fun." He grinned. "So, birdie, what's your name?"

"Let my wrist go and I'll tell you my name." He bargained.

Prussia almost giggled. Complying, he took another sip of his coffee and leaned back with an expectant face.

"Matthew Williams." He said.

"How old are you?" Prussia asked.

"Nineteen, you?"

"Twenty-one. You hungry?"

"A bit, yeah."

"You wanna go somewhere and get a sandwich?"

"Starbucks has sandwiches."

"Yeah, but they're a ripoff. C'mon." Prussia stood up, shutting his laptop and shoving it into his backpack. There was something about that man that drew him in. It could be his vulnerability, or it could just be those purple eyes. Either way, he wanted to get to know this Matthew Williams a bit better.

It was a cold February day, and Prussia's puffy coat was hardly enough to keep him warm. Matthew looked freezing in just his hoodie. "You want my jacket?" Prussia offered.

Matthew shook his head. "I'll be fine." He said, struggling to keep his teeth from chattering.

The place Prussia was taking him to wasn't too far away, so Matthew didn't freeze too much. The place was a local deli that sold pre-made sandwiches and warm sausages. The two stepped in, placed their orders, and sat down at a table.

"You never told me your name." Matthew said, picking up his sandwich.

Prussia paused. "Everyone calls me Prussia. You can too." He replied, picking up his fork and knife.

"Eh?" Matthew cocked his head. "But you don't have a real name?"

Prussia chewed his mouthful of sausage, swallowed, then pulled up his coat sleeve. Imprinted on his pale wrist in pure black was the roman eagle he'd had France tattoo on him a year ago. "I changed my name and got this tattoo one year ago. My old name held... A lot of... Bad memories. And I'd rather not anyone call me by that name. So you can call me Prussia." He finished, a little more blunt than he meant.

Matthew nodded. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know. Just Prussia, then." He took a bite of his sandwich.

Prussia bit his lip. Then, suddenly, he burst into laughter.

"What?" Matthew was bewildered.

"I get it now!" Prussia said in between chuckles. "You're Canadian!"

"Yeah, so?" Matthew folded his arms over his chest.

"You've apologized three times and said 'eh' once..." Prussia trailed off. "It's not really that funny, I'm sorry. Agh! Now I'm doing it too!" They both laughed.

"So, _Prussia,_ what do you do for a living?"

* * *

 **meh, this was a crappy chapter. sorry bout that. #socanadian XD**


	3. Chapter 2

Prussia finished his sausage and pushed his plate away, wiping the crumbs from his mouth delicately. "I run a website."

"Which?" Matthew asked. There was nothing wrong with being curious, but Prussia couldn't answer that question.

"Can't tell. Top secret." He replied.

"Not even if the person asking frequents that website?" Matthew teased. "You run Safe Haven Hub, don't you?"

Prussia grinned. "Now how did you know that?"

"It's the only popular website that no-one knows who runs it. It had to be it."

"Well, you got me now. Don't tell, 'kay?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

Matthew finished the last bites of his sandwich and Prussia put some money on the table, enough to cover both of their food. "No, it's okay, I have money." Matthew said, digging in his pockets for the coins Prussia heard jingling in there.

"Please, I insist." Prussia put on his most charming smile, and Matthew withdrew his hands from his pockets.

"Well, thanks." He said awkwardly. "I guess I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah. Good luck." Prussia said, and with a final wave, Matthew disappeared out into the cold snowy day.

Prussia stared after his retreating form for a moment, his bright red hoodie and orange-blond hair with that cute curl. Then he packed up his stuff and got ready to leave himself.

He opened the door of the deli, and immediately a cold blast of wind and snow hit him right in the face. He winced, remembering what it was like to have to sleep outside on a night like this. He was lucky he had somewhere to go now.

He began the trek through the alleys and side streets, the sketchiest part of the city. Prussia had lived here for a year, he knew his surroundings and no-one dared approach him that night. Reaching the house, he burst in the door and stumbled up the stairs, with the intention of starting a nice warm fire.

He did just that, and wrapped himself in a blanket while the storm howled outside. He opened his laptop and logged into all his accounts, and got started on moderating the forums. The religion argument had cooled down somewhat, but there was one guy who just didn't get the picture. He sent the account a warning, meaning if he committed one more offence his account would be deleted, and then entered the deep web.

The deep web made Prussia slightly uncomfortable. The deep web was dangerous, since everyone was completely anonymous. He tried to avoid it, but it was useful when he needed information. And he did. He opened up the main search engine and typed in 'Matthew Williams'.

At first, he got a lot of things that were definitely not the Matthew he met tonight, including a drug dealer in Seattle and a certified psychopath in Ukraine. But then he struck gold.

He compiled a list of things he knew about Matthew from the deep web. It ran as follows:

-Born in Toronto, Canada

-Has a half-brother named Alfred Jones

-Parents Melissa and Samuel Williams

-Matthew's father died when he was just three

-Melissa re-married and had another child within two years of his father's death

-Moved to New York City when he was six

-Never had many friends

-Everyone always mistook him for Alfred, or ignored him completely

-This made him depressed

-He had a girlfriend later

-She cheated on him and dumped him for the other guy

-Two days later he jumped on a bus and never came back

Prussia leaned back in his chair, reading and re-reading the list. Pretty tragic story. He wondered if Matthew was okay, if he had somewhere to sleep for the night. He could always take him in, let him crash on the couch for the night.

Prussia jumped up, pulling his coat and scarf on. That was what he'd do. After all, he'd been in that situation before. He knew how much it sucked.

He left the house, but not before extinguishing his fire. It was an old house and completely made out of wood, if something happened while he was gone he'd lose everything.

The storm was even worse than before, and the sharp wind nipped at his face like tiny daggers. In a place like his neighbourhood, and in a storm like this one, it would be difficult to see anyone huddled up in some corner, alone, forgotten. Not unless you were looking for them.

Which was why, when he found Matthew sitting on a third-story fire escape with only a sheet of cardboard protecting him, his heart ached.

"Birdie!" He called up. He'd already forgotten his name, damn! The figure stirred, and then Matthew's small white face peeked over the iron railing. "Come down! I've got a couch for you to crash on!"

Matthew sat up, and Prussia bit his lip as he noticed frost covering the hem and sleeves of his hoodie. He climbed down from the stairs, and hitting the snow-covered pavement, wobbled a bit. Prussia caught his arm. "Easy, birdie." Matthew's arm felt cold all the way through. Prussia led him through the streets to his own house, Matthew stumbling behind, half asleep. Once inside, he re-light the fire as Matthew eased himself onto the couch. His glasses were fogged up from the change of temperature.

"Here, birdie." Prussia rooted around in his cupboard for an extra blanket. He settled the blanket around Matthew's shoulders. He mumbled something that sounded like "thank you", but Prussia couldn't be sure. He removed Matthew's glasses, then headed up to bed himself.

* * *

 **So I've been obsessing over the plot these last few days, and I've finally got one that works. I can write without guilt! Honestly, I had like three plots and none of them made sense. Hope you liked this chapter. Sorry about Matthew's totally non-canon back story, but i had to make one up.**


	4. Chapter 3

Matthew Williams woke up to the sound of a sizzling pan and the smell of pancakes.

At first, he didn't know where he was. Then he remembered last night, the freezing iron of the fire escape and Prussia's kindness. The fire had been burnt out, and his glasses sat on an end table, neatly folded up; Matthew didn't remember taking them off himself. A quilt was thrown over him, and from the way the wooden floors creaked it was obvious Prussia's house was an old one. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Birdie!" Prussia said, appearing in Matthew's peripheral vision. "How ya doin'?"

"Um, okay..." He mumbled. Prussia grinned. He'd thought up a killer plan last night, Matthew was going to love it. And it was a plus for him too.

"If you don't get your butt off my couch I just might eat all those pancakes myself." He chucked, twirling the spatula between his fingers. He headed back to the kitchen.

"Oh, um... Prussia?" Matthew said, retrieving his glasses. "Thank you. Really. I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here." He got up and headed towards the kitchen, where Prussia was making pancakes from a mix.

"No probs, bro!" He said cheerily, slapping a few on a plate and placing it on the table. "In fact, I've got a brilliant idea."

Matthew looked up.

"You should come live with me!"

Matthew's mouth dropped open. Here was this guy, who he'd only met yesterday, wanting to room with him. No, correction, wanting to _take him in,_ let him _live in his house._ He couldn't accept. He really didn't need to go to so much trouble for him.

"No, really, it's fine, you don't have to put up with me, I've got somewhere to go anyway." He lied.

"Is that why you were prepared to spend all night on that staircase?" Prussia countered, taking a plate with three pancakes and spreading butter over them.

Matthew opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. Prussia was right, he didn't have anywhere to go. But why would he move in with a complete stranger?

Prussia slid a plate over to him. He took it gratefully, and looked around the table for some maple syrup.

There wasn't any.

"Do you have any maple syrup?" He asked, reaching for the butter. Prussia shook his head.

"What?!" Was Matthew's first reaction. "Come on, how can you have pancakes and not have maple syrup?"

"I don't know, it's not exactly at the top of my shopping list."

Matthew looked flabbergasted. Prussia started laughing. "You should see your face!" Once he'd calmed down a bit, he made a deal with Matthew. "Alright, I'll buy you maple syrup if you say you'll live with me."

Matthew's only reaction was a confused face.

"I'm just trying to help you out." Prussia shrugged. "It's fine if you don't want to. But," he lowered his voice, as if someone would hear him, "I ran away too. At seventeen. And if someone had offered me help, I would have taken it."

Matthew jumped. "How do you know I ran away?" He asked warily.

"Well I am the creator of one of the most popular websites in the world, I know my way around the internet." Prussia cut a pancake in half. "Your ex sounds like a real bitch."

Matthew flushed. "This is kinda creepy..."

"Don't worry, bro, I was just doing my homework. Wanted to make sure you weren't some crazy guy before I let you stay in my home. So what do you say?" He extended his hand across the table.

Matthew was unsure. On one hand, his internet skills were freaking him out. On the other, he seemed like a pretty decent guy.

He took Prussia's hand and shook it. "Okay, it's a deal. Where can you buy maple syrup around here?"

-oooo-

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were standing in the grocery store, scanning the shelves for a decent bottle of the _magical maple fluid,_ as Matthew called it. Prussia retorted that it sounded like some kind of maple-flavoured lube. Matthew vowed to never call it that again.

"Look, there's a bottle." Prussia reached for a bottle of Aunt Jemima's.

"No, no, no, no." Matthew said, snagging it from his hand. "That stuff's crap. You gotta get the real stuff." He grabbed a glass bottle with a picture of a _cabane a sucre_ on the front.

"But that's more expensive!" Prussia protested.

"It's worth it." Matthew insisted, pressing it into his hands. "It has real maple in it."

Prussia muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "What else should I expect from a Canadian?"

They got in line and paid the extra $2.99 for the real maple syrup, then made their way back to Prussia's house. Once he tried the maple syrup, Prussia agreed that it did taste better and yes, it was worth it. "I told you." Matthew gloated. Prussia did nothing more than raise his eyebrows.

Yes, it seemed they were going to get along just fine.

* * *

 **yes i know there is an accent in cabane a sucre, but i couldn't get the accent to work. It was bein messed up. k? :D also, after the next chapter the plot will probably start to pick up. Now that I have a plot, lol.**


	5. Chapter 4

It took some time to settle into life at Prussia's house, that's for sure.

It wasn't as if Prussia was a devout Mormon or an insane vegan or anything strange like that. In fact, he was a punctual man, a man of habit. He got up, breakfasted, and left the house every day at the same time. He came back at the same time, with the same coffee cup from Starbucks. When asked what he was doing, he replied with "patrolling my territory," like he was the warlord of a feudal country. He then spent the rest of the day moderating the forums, checking various websites, and trolling random people for a laugh. He ate dinner at six thirty sharp, whether eating out or in, and generally maintained the same diet of meat, vegetables, and grains. He wasn't so big on dairy products, Matthew noticed.

Matthew had spent practically his entire life in the shadows, so he knew how to observe. And observing Prussia was interesting indeed.

He had his habits, his routine, his funny little quirks. Matthew counted no less than six tattoos on him, and that was only the parts he could see. There could be some on his back, stomach, upper thighs... Anywhere that wasn't covered by his winter garb.

Prussia was talkative and chatty, and he liked to ramble on about the most mundane things to Matthew while working on his website; such as the latest celebrity gossip or whether or not he'd get a pet.

"I think I'd get a bird," He'd said. "A little yellow bird, and name it Gilbird."

"Why's that?" Matthew had asked. But Prussia's smile had faltered and he whispered never mind.

Prussia did not speak about his childhood and teenage years. Matthew understood and didn't push the subject, whatever made him want to leave home at seventeen must have been bad.

He did mention once about someone named Ludwig and someone else named Antonio. Matthew didn't ask the questions, he mostly just listened, so he internally wondered who these people were. Were they friends, relatives? He seemed to like Antonio very much, but he spoke about Ludwig with a very controlled voice, as though he were trying not to lose it.

But overall, life at Prussia's house was enjoyable. He was good company, and let Matthew take over all the cooking and cleaning easily. Since those were his jobs back home, he didn't actually mind sweeping around or cooking dinner; in fact he rather liked it.

Prussia joked that they were like an old married couple. "Except," He chortled, "The man wouldn't be hacking other's websites or stalking people, and the woman wouldn't be singing heavy metal as she dusted the TV."

"What makes you think I'm the woman?" Matthew said, feigning offence. "I could hit you with this feather duster and knock you out."

Prussia looked horrified. "And get dirt in my awesome hair?!" The two laughed once more and returned to their respective tasks.

Even though Prussia joked about them being in a relationship, Matthew truly did find Prussia to be more attractive every day. But that wasn't something to just spring on Prussia; after all they were just friends.

And so life at Prussia's house carried on.

Prussia, for his part, enjoyed having Matthew around and was glad he took him in. He was an agreeable person, his Canadian politeness never permitting him to say no to a request or specify something when asked. He was the kind of person who walked on the side of the sidewalk, on the curb, balancing, trying not to fall off. Prussia walked in the middle.

They were a good match.

Prussia had never really had someone to talk to since he was still a teen. As a child, he'd always had his brother, but when he hit adolescence, his brother wasn't there anymore. For years, he'd wanted someone to talk to as openly as he had to Matthew, but he never had it. And now that he had it, he worried that he was annoying him.

Matthew never got annoyed. He liked listening, while Prussia preferred talking.

And Prussia found it easier and easier to talk to Matthew. They had the same sense of humour, and he hardly interrupted. Only to ask a question, which Prussia always answered honestly. Unless it was about Ludwig or his childhood.

That was the one thing Prussia refused to talk about. He knew it might be therapeutic to finally talk about it, his father's rejection, his jealousy for his brother, his mother who could hardly find it in herself to show him affection. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Every time he even thought about it, tears came to his eyes. And he did not cry. He refused to. He hadn't cried, really, truly cried, since that fateful Sunday night.

And he was stronger now, dammit.

Sometimes, when Prussia was hacking, or just hanging out, he would catch Matthew staring at him in a strange way. He just smiled at him until Matthew looked away, but he wondered what it was.

 _He's probably feeling strange about this entire arrangement still,_ He thought one night. _I mean, it's only been a few days._

It had been exactly six days since Matthew had moved in with Prussia.

* * *

 **yay. chapters. i'm hungry, its almost 3 AM where i live, nighty night!**

 **PS get ready for the actual plot next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 5

On the seventh day, shit got real.

It didn't start out too bad. Things were going to schedule; normal, that is. Or normal as it ever got.

Matthew had left to go buy some more maple syrup, they'd run out so fast because he kept making pancakes every morning and drowning them in the syrup. Prussia was doing his morning hacking, and for some reason he decided to mosey on over and check out the deep web.

The deep web did make him uncomfortable, yes. But the feeling was quite gone since the last time he was on, which was at night. With a crackling fire nearby and a storm outside. Any normal person would be a bit agitated by that situation. But it was fine now, with the storm blown away and the morning sun shining as bright as it could in the pale winter sky.

So Prussia, against his better judgment, really, logged into the deep web. He wondered idly if he could pry any more into Matthew's personal life, and lazily typed his name into the search engine.

And got the shock of his life.

The very first thing that came up when he searched _Matthew Williams_ was not a drug dealer in Seattle, nor a certified psychopath in Ukraine. It was a want ad. It ran as follows:

 _Looking for information on the definitive whereabouts of a young man named Matthew Williams. Nineteen years old, blond hair, purple eyes, wears glasses. Will offer $100,000 to anyone who can direct me to him, his place of living or place of employment, under complete discretion. Can be wired to the bank account of your choice. If you are planning to accept the money, do not under any circumstances tell anyone about this arrangement. Contract may be required._

As Prussia sat there, digesting the information, he heard the door slam shut and Matthew walk in, probably with three bottles of maple syrup. He loved the stuff. He heard Matthew walking up the stairs, so he slammed the laptop shut, his heart beating fast.

"I got the maple syrup!" He said happily. "The snow on the deck should be clean by now so I'm gonna pour the maple syrup over it, it's a great treat, want some Prussia?"

"Um, sure. Thanks. You crazy Canadians actually do that?" He asked, his mind not on maple syrup sno-cones but on the mysterious person on the deep web, and what they could possibly want with Mattie.

"Yeah, it's great!"

"Well, I guess that's what happens when you have nothing but maple trees and snow..." Prussia muttered, thinking fast.

It wasn't a friend or a relative, that's for damn sure. A friend or a relative wouldn't post on the deep web, where only the shadiest hung out. And they wouldn't want 'absolute discretion', and 'contract may be required' would _not_ be on there. It was someone who was interested in Matthew. Crazily. Abso-fucking-lutely insanely. The whole thing smelled of some sort of underhand human trafficking deal. He wondered if he'd really gotten the whole story on Matthew. Maybe he should ask him himself.

"Prussia, if you want one, they're out there." Matthew wandered back in from the balcony with a mess of maple syrup and melted snow on a popsicle stick.

"That looks hella disgusting." Prussia said, eyeing the concoction disapprovingly. "Wait, out there? Did you just pour maple syrup on a pile of snow and stick a popsicle stick in?"

"Yeah. That's how you do it."

Prussia resisted the urge to facepalm-doing that in real life would be really dorky-and instead cracked a wry smile. On any other day he would have laughed and said why not. But today he was worried. Because some crazy person on the deep web wanted Matthew's whereabouts.

"Alright, alright. Jesus, I hope I don't accidentally ingest dog shit or something." He headed out to the balcony, picked a popsicle stick from the pile of maple-covered frozen water, and stuck it in his mouth.

Generally, maple was an acquired taste. One only ate it on pancakes or waffles. Period. So maple and snow tasted kind of weird to Prussia. It had a strange texture, some parts of it were watery from the snow melting, and other parts were stringy and sticky from the combination of snow and syrup, almost like maple glue. It got stuck to the wooden popsicle stick and was really hard to scrape off with your teeth. Prussia made a mental note to floss extra well tonight.

"Good, right?" Matthew was on his second stick. "Brings me back to camp. Bannock and maple snow."

"Right." Prussia agreed.

This was serious. Someone was out to get Matthew. Whether to kill him, kidnap him, or sell him, he didn't know. He just hoped he didn't ever have to find out.

* * *

 **I hope I described** tire d'érable **correctly. It's hard to describe, but that's how I felt eating it this summer. Then I sat around a campfire, snap chatting pictures of my shoes. #teenlife**

 **Also, apparently my brain does not care about hunger or my under eye circles. This is bad news. not for you, for you it means ill probably be updating twice a day. but for my mental, physical, and spiritual health, its shitty.**


	7. Chapter 6

_"Prussia!" Matthew called. "Pancakes are ready!"_

 _"Okay, birdie." Prussia grumbled, getting out of bed and grabbing the nearest pair of pants. He descended the stairs to the kitchen, where Matthew was busy setting the table, including stacks of steaming pancakes, copious amounts of butter, and numberless numbers of maple syrup bottles._

 _"I don't think we'll need this much maple syrup." He grinned, taking a plate and scraping half the pancakes onto it._

 _"Oh yes we will." Matthew replied in a teasing sort of voice. Prussia looked up from his food and saw half the maple syrup on the table was gone. Matthew started giggling. "I'm ADDICTED!" He whispered._

 _Prussia started to feel a bit queasy._

 _Matthew laughed harder and harder and harder and as he did his form started to turn golden-brown and melt at the edges, just like maple syrup. Pretty soon Matthew was just a laughing puddle of maple syrup on the floor._

Prussia's eyes shot open. "What the fuck?" He whispered to himself.

Daylight was streaming in through his blinds. Birds chirped outside, and his own birdie was surely snoring his head off on the couch. It was just a dream, a crazy dream.

He told Matthew about the dream at breakfast. Prussia had decided to lay off the pancakes for a bit and instead had cereal and juice. Matthew thought the dream was hilarious. He kept saying not to be surprised if at Halloween he dressed up as a big bottle of maple syrup just to freak him out. Prussia laughed along, but inwardly the dream had horrified him.

Nevertheless, he went through his regular routine, and by eleven thirty he had opened up his laptop.

He was on the Internet, like he always was, just flicking through his various accounts and moderating forums, when he was approached by someone on Reddit.

 _SconesAndTea107: Hey, AwesomeEmperor, I think I know you._

He squinted at the screen. Who was this scones and tea guy? Probably some old British dude trolling him. He replied.

 _AwesomeEmperor: You're wrong. No-one knows me._

 _SconesAndTea107: What about Matthew then?_

His fingers froze on the keyboard. Who was this? Was it the same person from the deep web? True, it wasn't the same handle-the deep web handle had been _psychomaster_ -but he could always have a different one. These were dangerous waters he was treading in. Glancing nervously over at Matthew, he typed in his response.

 _AwesomeEmperor: Who are you?_

 _SconesAndTea107: I can't tell you. Not right now, anyway. But I can if you'll be at the corner of_ _third and Main at three P.M. today._

 _AwesomeEmperor: What do you want?_

 _SconesAndTea107: Nothing. Just bring Mattie._

The green dot that indicated SconesAndTea107 was logged in turned black. Prussia logged off himself, ignoring his trembling fingers.

Matthew was in serious danger. This person, psychomaster or SconesAndTea107, whatever he was called, was a threat. He wanted the two of them to come and meet him at third and Main. But if they didn't... Something bad could happen, something terrifying.

Although SconesAndTea107 was actually a handle he could track down. It wasn't the deep web, so he could snoop in this SconesAndTea107's life as much as he pleased.

Unfortunately, he didn't get much. SconesAndTea107 was protected with a powerful firewall and several dead-end email addresses that were almost impossible to uncover. After a while of hard-core searching, he just sighed and logged off everything, clearing his machine of any potential viruses.

This was bad, very, very bad. He glanced at the time on his laptop. It was eleven thirty-six now. He had exactly four hours and four minutes to come up with a plan.

He stressed over it for all those four hours and four minutes.

When the clock struck quarter to three, he strode purposely over to his desk and opened the biggest drawer with the most complicated key he had. Opening the drawer revealed a select collection of firearms. He put the smallest pistol in his pocket and threw a jacket over his shoulders, calling, "Birdie! Let's go for a walk!"

The two trudged through the snow-covered city streets, not uttering a word. Matthew knew Prussia was ticked off about something, and wisely decided not to question his friend's intention to go on a meaningless ramble at such a random point in his schedule. Prussia, himself, was sweating under his coat. He could feel the pistol pressing up against his side every time he took a step, and the sinking feeling in his stomach as a consequence. He knew if it was only one, he could defend himself and Matthew pretty well. But if their intention was to kill or kidnap them, they would have far more than one man.

Reaching the street corner, Prussia spotted a man in black. He was just standing there, loitering around like you would if you were waiting for someone. He had messy blond hair and very thick eyebrows. His actual eyes were concealed by dark square sunglasses, only adding to Prussia's knots in his stomach. He was wearing a long black overcoat and was smoking a cigarette.

As they approached, the man dropped his cigarette and smushed it with his black boot. "I assume you're Prussia?" He said in a smooth British accent, offering a black-gloved hand for a shake. Prussia did not take it.

"Yes, that's me." Prussia did not even question how he knew. He must be a master of the deep web. "Is it just you here?"

"Um, Prussia, what's going on?" Matthew asked, but Prussia didn't even get the chance to answer before another man jumped out of a nearby building, scaring the hell out of Prussia and Matthew, yelling, "Bro!"

The man latched onto Matthew, prompting Prussia to draw his gun out of his pocket, shouting meaningless threats. What surprised him was when Matthew hugged the man back and yelled, "Alfie!"

 _What?!_


	8. Chapter 7

**yes i know england probably doesn't smoke but when i was writing it i got this great image of black and white england in a trench coat and hat smoking with the smoke curling lazily upwards like in a forties movie... so i had to put it in there. Sorry XD**

* * *

"You're Alfred?" Prussia asked. The man hugging Matthew was the same height and build, and they had the same face. Alfred's eyes were blue, a bright blue, and he wore the same glasses. His hair was more blond than Matthew's, and he wore a tan bomber jacket. All in all, they looked remarkably similar for just half-brothers.

"Yeah, dude, that's me, the hero!" He exclaimed excitedly, a grin plastering itself over his face.

"So... That _wasn't_ you offering $100,000?" Prussia asked warily. This Alfred didn't look like it, and if they were brothers why would he offer money? However, he just wanted to be sure.

"Nah, but I'll take it if you've got it!" Prussia smirked at Alfred's comment and he heard the other man chortle.

Putting his gun away, Prussia turned to him and said, "So if these two are brothers, who are you?"

"Iggy's being shy!" Alfred sang, letting go of his brother and draping an arm around his shoulders. "This is my boyfriend Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur took off his sunglasses and folded them up. His eyes were a bright, vivid green, like the centre of a cut lime. Coupled with his thick, dark eyebrows and yellow blond hair his appearance was quite striking. "Pleasure." He said, extending a hand once more and this time, Prussia took it.

"Alfie, what's been happening?" Matthew asked, smiling cutely at his brother. "And how did you know how to find me?"

"An old friend of Arthur's is a hacker and tracked you down." He explained briefly.

"More like frenemy." Arthur muttered.

"Why don't we go back to my place and get a drink." Prussia offered. "I have enough beer in my fridge to last a lifetime."

Alfred and Arthur accepted and the four of them walked back the way Prussia and Matthew had come. Prussia, leading the way, was in front, and Alfred and Matthew hung back to talk and catch up. It was awkward between Arthur and Prussia in front while the brothers in behind chatted up a storm.

"So," Alfred smirked, "Are you guys fucking?"

"Alfred! He'll hear you! And _no,_ we just live together." Matthew replied, blushing furiously.

Alfred grinned, a grin that said, _uh huh, sure._

They reached Prussia's place and he let them in. It was kind of a dump at the moment, with dirty clothes and pizza boxes strewn around, courtesy of Prussia. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and handed one to each man.

"So..." Matthew began timidly, "What was so important about finding me that you had to talk to a hacker?"

"Nothing, bro! I just wanted to see you..." Alfred paused. "And I kinda faked my own death."

"What?!" Matthew asked, confused and a bit angry. Arthur and Prussia looked on awkwardly.

"I can explain Mattie I can totally explain just give me a minute!" Alfred rushed through his sentence and took a gulp of beer. "Okay. So I kept getting harassed by this girl-"

"And the only possible solution was to fake your own death." Matthew interrupted skeptically.

"Just listen, Mattie! And yes, it was, she was a real psycho. She kept harassing me online and making threats about kidnapping me and stuff so Iggy helped me fake my own death and we moved away." Alfred shuddered, drinking more beer.

"Well, if she was making threats, I guess that was an okay reason..." Matthew hedged. For one moment, everything was awkwardly silent.

Prussia cleared his throat and said, "So, uh, Arthur, what do you do?"

"Unemployed at the moment, but I majored in art in college." He responded.

This was easier now, yes, this was territory he could hold a conversation with. Prussia drank some beer and turned his charm up all the way.

Several beers later...

"So then I say to him," Arthur spluttered, face turning red, "You have no idea how to even use vowels!"

The others roared with laughter.

"And that's the story of how we met." He finished with a laugh.

"Hey Mattie, would you see if we have anything stronger?" Prussia shook his empty beer can. "We all deserve to get as drunk as Arthur."

Matthew went and looked, then came back with a bottle of vodka and four shot glasses. Giggling, he decanted vodka into each of them and handed one to everyone. "Bottoms up!"

A couple shots later...

"Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, and this be our motto: 'In God is our trust.'" Sang Alfred drunkenly. "And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!" He finished and the others gave him a round of applause.

"My turn, my turn..." Matthew stood up and swayed uneasily on his feet before beginning to sing. "O Canada, our home and native land..."

"Sing it in French!" Prussia called.

"Ton front est ceint, des fleurons glorieux..."

"Back to English!"

"With glowing hearts, we see thee rise, the true north strong and free!"

"French!"

"Ton histoire est un épopée des plus brilliants exploits!"

"English!"

"God keep our land glorious and free..."

"French!"

"Prussia I do have a limit you know!" Matthew stopped singing and collapsed onto the couch, Prussia giggling.

"It was fun torturing you!" He teased. Matthew took another gulp of whatever drink was on the coffee table, not even caring anymore.

Prussia looked over at Matthew, draped across his old blue couch, and suddenly realized exactly how attractive he was to him.

He leaned over and kissed him.


	9. Chapter 8

Matthew woke up with a pounding headache.

Luckily it was a pretty dreary day, and not much sunlight made it through the blinds of Prussia's bedroom window.

Wait, Prussia's bedroom?!

He pushed his eyes open fully and looked around. Prussia was out cold next to him, snoring like a bear with sinus problems. A quilt was tangled around his legs and his white hair was messy. Matthew squinted at the dresser for his glasses. They weren't there.

Fuck.

He scrambled off the bed, trying not to make too much noise. Oh God, what had happened last night?

Tiptoeing down the stairs, (they creaked) he found his glasses sitting on the kitchen table with a note underneath them. He put them on and read the note.

 _Hey Mattie, me and Arthur took off because he was really drunk and you and Prussia were getting busy ;) -Alfred_

Fucking shit.

For the life of him, he could not remember what happened last night. He remembered having Alfred and Arthur over for drinks, but as soon as he got to the point where they brought out the vodka, his memory went fuzzy. He could only hope Prussia didn't remember anything either.

Because, who knows what they did? They could have just made out and fallen asleep, or they could have had full-on sex. It was his guess as anyone else's.

He heard Prussia stirring upstairs, and his stomach jolted. He liked Prussia, he liked him a lot, but they were just friends and he didn't want to ruin it. He poured himself a glass of water.

Prussia came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes sleepily, "Hey Mattie."

"M-morning, Prussia." He stuttered nervously. He glanced down at the note clutched in his hand and quickly threw it in the garbage.

"Hey, can you remember anything that happened last night?" He asked, frowning. Matthew shook his head. "I bet I did something real stupid."

Matthew almost sighed in relief. He didn't remember anything either. So he could just forget about waking up in Prussia's bed. "If you did, Alfie surely has it on video."

Prussia laughed. He walked into the living room and opened up his laptop, ignoring the mess of bottles and the general smell of alcohol. Matthew left to go get dressed.

He opened up Safe Haven Hub and moderated a couple forums, never tearing his eyes from the screen.

Prussia felt sick to his stomach. He remembered nothing from last night- nothing that they _did._ He just remembered feeling this strong attraction to Matthew, like he'd never looked so beautiful as he did last night. He might have kissed him. They might have made out. Maybe he rejected him and was too awkward to talk about it, hoping that he didn't remember.

He realized that his cursor was hovering over the app to open the deep web. Unconsciously, it had drifted there, seemingly on its own. He hesitated a moment, then clicked.

He wasn't even sure he knew what he was going to do. But his fingers seemed to know all on their own. He went to history, and clicked on the link for the want ad from psychomaster.

He was going to track down this psychomaster.

Three hours later, he had nothing.

Truth be told, it was an impossible task. Not only is tracking someone down on the deep web incredibly difficult for the average user, this psychomaster was everywhere. It was obvious he knew the web and knew how to protect himself, and was a far better hacker than Prussia.

But damn it, he was going to find him. Psychomaster was a dangerous criminal, obviously, and dangerous criminals need to be caught. _Especially dangerous criminals who want to harm Mattie,_ he thought.

He found a link that might mean something. He clicked on it excitedly, only to be informed by a pop-up window that a virus had infected his computer.

"No no no no no..." He muttered, clicking and typing like mad. "Shit this is not happening..."

It was a trap! Psychomaster must have known that Prussia was going to try and track him down, and set up a trap with a virus that would infect his computer. And... A terrible chill struck him in the heart as he realized that now psychomaster had all the information about Mattie he needed.

" _FUCK!_ " He yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. It rattled and a beer can fell off, spilling on the wood floor.

"Prussia?" Matthew walked in the room, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Speechless, Prussia looked at his computer. It was going crazy, random windows popping up and lines of code spilling out onto the screen out of nowhere. He had been expertly hacked, and now he needed to get psychomaster out before he completely took over his computer.

Matthew looked at the computer as well, then he quietly walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He knew Prussia needed quiet to work. He winced as he heard screaming, a long, unintelligible word that contained several swears and strange words he thought might be German.

It took Prussia a full twenty-four hours to completely clear the computer of psychomaster and reset all his accounts. But Safe Haven Hub had been hacked and was now full of threatening messages he needed to clean up.

* * *

 **how was that? I'm listening to Shinedown in my pjs rn, so im feeling a bit dark. if you don't believe me look up Cyanide Sweet Tooth Suicide. I think its a cover from someone else tho.**

 **anyway... what chapter is this? oh yeah 8. ill be updating a lot** **today because i suddeny have a lot of free time on my hands and i JUST WANNA WRITE!**


	10. Chapter 9

**This chapter is dedicated to NorwegianPilot17 for being the first person to type gibberish as a review. Gibberish is a compliment, ppl! now on with the chapter.**

* * *

 _Experts have yet to confirm who or what has hacked the popular website Safe Haven Hub. As the name and whereabouts of the creator are unknown, it is unlikely this issue will be resolved any time soon. Back to you, Tim._

"Can we turn this shit off, please?" Prussia muttered exasperatingly, shoving another spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth. Matthew reached for the remote and pressed the power button. The television screen went black.

The hacking of Safe Haven Hub was all over the news. It had gone viral. People were posting screenshots of Safe Haven Hub on Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter with the hashtag #SafeHavenHubHacked. There was a popular vine going around featuring screenshots of Safe Haven Hub. Several people had claimed it was them, but their claims all turned out to be false. More people had claimed to be the creator, but of course they were lying. And Prussia hated it all.

What he hated most about it though was Matthew didn't even know why it had happened. They'd never talked about it, Matthew had just assumed Prussia had been careless and let his guard down. But it had actually happened because a madman on the deep web was willing to trade Matthew for money.

Prussia frowned. Since the attack, the website's ads weren't working anymore. Which meant his paychecks were significantly decreasing. He was working hard to get them to work again, but the virus seemed to have left some permanent damage.

Matthew had noticed. Prussia cashed his paychecks himself, so he never saw the exact amount, but he noticed things. Like Prussia not wanting to eat out, Prussia insisting he could fix it himself, anything to save money. So, he decided to get a job.

Unfortunately Matthew's resume wasn't exactly the best. He had little to no references, and practically no experience at anything. Before he ran away he wanted to be an architect, but he sure as hell didn't have the training to do a job like that.

And that's the story of how Matthew Williams ended up working at Starbucks.

Prussia loved it. He found it hilarious and would make special trips to the coffeeshop just to see him and tease him. He always asked if he had to pay for his coffee, and even when the answer was yes, (which was always) he gave Matthew a big tip. He would then spend hours in the shop, using their wifi an moderating forums. When it was particularly slow, they would chat.

So apart from the whole psychomaster crisis, things were going surprisingly well at Prussia's house.

And yet there were those pesky little things called feelings that attempted to disrupt the façade of calm that Matthew projected.

Ever since the night they got drunk with Alfred and Arthur, he had been more and more confused about his feelings for the white-haired hacker he lived with.

It wasn't just that Prussia was his best friend and the only person, aside from Alfred maybe, who really could understand him, it was that he never thought he'd like a guy like him.

Prussia was strange yet captivating with his intense, bright red stare. Matthew had to leave the room whenever Prussia was typing because the sight of those pale, spindly fingers dancing across the keyboard gave him the shivers. His laugh sounded evil but it got inside Matthew and echoed throughout his whole body, making his nerves tingle with electricity. His six tattoos that he could see were a roman eagle, an eye, a rose, an armband, a tree, and an abstract design. Matthew liked to think of it as tendrils of smoke wisping and curling up Prussia's calf.

 _I'm falling for him!_ He thought one night, stretched out on the couch, unable to sleep. And it was true, he was falling hard for Prussia. He sat up straight, and reached for one of Prussia's laptops- not the laptop he did all his hacking and editing and moderating on, Matthew didn't know the password for that one. Instead, it was his casual-use one, the one he hardly ever used but Matthew used quite a bit. He hit Alfred up with an email and waited.

 _Alfie, I know its late and stuff but I just want to talk. I think I'm falling for Prussia and to tell the truth I'm actually rather scared. -Matthew_

Ten minutes later, Alfred replied.

 _Mattie, bro, you gotta embrace your feelings! Wait a sec, you already have XD -Alfred_

Matthew sighed. What exactly happened that night?

 _Alfie don't lie to me tell me exactly what did I do the night we all got drunk -Matthew_

 _Prussia -Alfred_

 _ALFIE IM TRYNA BE SERIOUS NOW DID WE HAVE SEX OR NOT -Matthew_

 _Mattie, jeez, idk. You guys were making out on the couch and getting all touchy an shit so I called a cab and me and Arthur went home. That's all I know I swear. -Alfred_

Five minutes went by. Matthew tried to digest this information.

 _Look, for what it's worth, I was really confused when I first started liking Arthur. But I think he likes you back. Otherwise why would he kiss you first? -Alfred_

 _He kissed me first? -Matthew_

 _Oops forgot to mention that. But yeah, he did. Sorry I gtg, its late K? Try and sleep. -Alfred_

Matthew logged out and shut the laptop, lying down once more with a smile on his face. Prussia kissed him first? Maybe there was hope.


	11. Chapter 10

It was a normal day at Prussia's house.

Prussia had got up, breakfasted, and strolled around the neighbourhood. Matthew was at work, so Prussia had attempted to do the laundry himself, and except for a slight mishap where a curtain rod had fallen off the wall and hit him square in the nose, nothing had gone wrong. Safe Haven Hub was working again, the ads were up and all the forums were moderated.

A ding from Prussia's laptop made his eyes narrow. A message from the deep web.

 _psychomaster: Hello, Prussia._

Prussia gritted his teeth and replied.

 _AwesomeEmperor: I would ask how you know my name, but you obviously got it when you hacked my computer._

 _psychomaster: Yes, it was an easy trap to set. And you fell right into it._

 _AwesomeEmperor: Did you message me just to gloat?_

 _psychomaster: No, actually. I messaged you to give you a piece of advice._

 _AwesomeEmperor: Advice from you? No thanks._

 _psychomaster: I wouldn't leave the house today, if I were you. Something might happen to you. Something bad. And I'd hate to see Mattie's reaction to that._

 _AwesomeEmperor: What the fuck are you trying to say?_

 _psychomaster: Nothing, nothing at all. It isn't as though I know everything about your relationship or what's going on between you two, right?_

Prussia could practically hear the taunting tone in psychomaster's messages. He drafted a long, angry reply, then deleted it. No need to give him any more information.

The door clicked open and Prussia panicked, slamming his laptop shut and looking up at Matthew guiltily as he walked in.

"Hey Prussia." He said, hanging up his coat.

"Hey..." Was all Prussia could manage in return. All of a sudden the house felt too tight, crushing his ribs, constricting and stifling him so that he couldn't breathe. He needed some air.

"Do we need anything from the store?" Prussia asked, checking his wallet. Fifty bucks.

"I don't think-" Matthew began.

"Well, fuck it, I'm going anyway." Prussia said, hastily shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his jacket.

"Uh, bye?" Matthew said awkwardly, as Prussia slammed the door in his face.

Prussia trudged along the street, his feet automatically taking him to the store. Psychomaster had rattled him to the core. "Idiot." He whispered to himself, annoyed he was so afraid.

He reached the store and, pondering the aisles, decided to get a couple chocolate bars. He hadn't had any in a while, and it would calm his nerves. Besides, Matthew would like it.

Stepping out into the freezing cold again, he broke a piece off one of the bars and put it in his mouth, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue.

It took him a while to get home, because he took the long route to think about Matthew and psychomaster.

When he did get home, however, Matthew wasn't there. There was a hurriedly scribbled note on the table reading, _went for a_ _walk, be back soon,_ but his shoes were still there. Prussia thought it a bit odd, but he was cold and tired and confused, so he immediately fell asleep on the couch.

-oooo-

It was snowing when he woke up. What had woken him up, in fact, was the wind howling outside. He groggily sat up.

"Birdie?" He called. It echoed throughout the house with no response. What time was it? He opened his laptop to check.

Seven o'clock? It had been... Around four when he got back from the store. And Matthew still wasn't back from his walk.

Now he was definitely suspicious. _Maybe he went for a walk and got lost or something,_ he thought doubtfully. Matthew knew his way around, but it was always a possibility. He should look for him anyway.

Donning his coat and boots for the third time that day, he once again emerged into the snowy, white, frozen landscape that was his neighbourhood. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him something wasn't right. Matthew shouldn't be out, he should be back. He had been gone for three hours at least.

He looked all over the city, checked every bar he came across, every club and every restaurant. Everyone he asked said they hadn't seen him. His hands and ears were numb and bright red, but he continued to look. At one point he wandered into a clock store and saw he had been looking for three hours.

Three hours later, he still couldn't find him.

Prussia stumbled in the door of his house, his heart beating wildly. He couldn't find Matthew anywhere, how was that possible? He had been searching for six hours. Six fucking hours. The tears had frozen on his face but still no Mattie.

Where could he be? He couldn't have just taken off. Prussia picked up the note from the table where he had left it. _Went for a walk, be right back,_ it said. _Be right back._

The sound of a message from the deep web jerked his thoughts back to the present. He swiftly opened his laptop and saw another message from psychomaster.

 _psychomaster: Wondering where Mattie went? Well he's right here with me._

Oh my God.

Matthew had been kidnapped by psychomaster.

* * *

 **GONNA LEAVE Y'ALL WITH THAT CLIFFHANGER AHAHAHA im evil**


	12. Chapter 11

**I wish I could reply to the guest reviewers, their reviews are the most interesting. This one's for you guys, MerryFrance, Kittycat, and b2.**

 **P.s.: nice theory Kittycat, but you'll have to wait and find out!**

* * *

Alfred's cell phone rang. He looked at the contact before answering, very careful to not pick up any calls from blocked numbers. Fortunately, it was only Prussia. He answered it. "Hello?"

"Alfred? Oh God, oh my God... It's Prussia." Prussia's voice sounded thin and cracked, like he'd been recently crying. "I didn't know who else to call, I can't trust the police..."

Alfred started to feel a bit sick. "What happened?"

"It's Matthew. He's been... Kidnapped." And with that, Prussia burst into tears.

Alfred didn't say anything. He just stood there, practically crushing the phone in his hand, listening to Prussia sob on the other end. He just stood there, frozen. _What... How, why, what?!_ Was all he could think. Finally, he just hung up.

-oooo-

Prussia had been having a rough twenty-four hours.

First of all, Matthew had been kidnapped. That in itself was shocking enough.

Secondly, he had spent the entire night fluctuating between messaging psychomaster and debating whether or not he should call the police. Psychomaster had not answered and therefore he got no sleep at all.

Lastly, he now had to deal with an angry and confused Alfred, and his own worries, doubts and fears.

"What the hell happened?!" Alfred practically shouted. "How do you know he was kidnapped, how do you know who did it, and most importantly, if Mattie was in danger why did you not tell anyone?!"

They were in Prussia's living room, the three of them: Prussia, Arthur, and Alfred. Three mugs of stone-cold coffee were making rings on the coffee table. The snow outside had frozen, so everything glittered like it was coated in diamonds. If it was cold outside, the atmosphere inside was colder. Not ice cold, more like a damp, dark cold, the kind you don't notice at first but slowly creeps into your bones and your nerves, freezing you to your very heart. If Prussia was a poetic person, that's how he would have put it.

"I can explain everything." Prussia stated, trying not to lose it himself. "There was this person, this guy, on the deep web, who had put up this notice. It was a want ad. It said he was willing to offer one hundred thousand dollars for anyone who could give him information about Matthew Williams. There was a description, it was spot-on. Obviously that was sketchy. But I thought that if I didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother me. And I paid the price when I broke that mentality by trying to find out who he was. He hacked my computer and got all my information, and evidently all Matthew's too. And he messaged me-I can show you the proof-he said, _and I quote,_ 'he's right here with me.' This psychomaster dude has kidnapped Matthew, and we need to do something about it."

The three of them sat in stunned silence for a moment.

"And you never told Matthew that someone was offering a hundred thousand dollars for information on him?" Alfred asked.

"I didn't want to worry him!" Prussia groaned. "But obviously that was a shitty decision because he could be fucking dead!"

"What do we do?" Arthur asked.

Alfred stood up. "We're going to rescue him!"

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Prussia does his magical bit of hacking and tracks down psychomaster, we travel to wherever he is, bust in there like badasses and take my brother back!"

Prussia shook his head. "Not possible. I already tried to track him down, and he hacked my computer. I can't do it. Besides, we'd need more than three people to take out psychomaster. He's probably some huge-ass buff guy."

"Well, I don't know, call your hacker friends!" Alfred threw his hands up. "If you're right and the police can't help us, then we need to do something!"

 _"I have no fucking friends!"_ Prussia jumped up. "Matthew was my only friend, and now he's gone."

"That's not true, don't you know some guy named... Uh, um... Oh God I forget his name now but Mattie told me you know some guy named Tony or something." Alfred shrugged.

Prussia closed his eyes in despair, then snapped them open. How could he have forgotten? Of course there was them. And maybe they'd be willing to help. He rushed to the phone and punched in the number, impatiently waiting for it to ring. Finally, the person on the other end picked up.

"Hello? Oh, can I speak to Antonio? Yeah, sure..."

Arthur and Alfred waited apprehensively.

"Spain! Get France and get over here quick, I need your help for some serious hacking. And this is serious, really serious. My friend has been kidnapped and we need the Bad Touch Trio to track down the kidnapper."

Prussia slammed the phone down on the receiver and stood up again. A lightswitch inside of him seemed to have been flicked on again and he was full of energy. "Don't worry, it's under control. The Bad Touch Trio are going to save Matthew!"


	13. Chapter 12

**I'm sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter, my sister was monopolizing the computer for the whole day today and then when I finally got on i was distracted by tumblr. here's some BTT and one sided FrUK as an apology (spoiler?)**

* * *

The doorbell rang.

Alfred looked up as Prussia went to get it. He opened the door, and two men stood on the threshold.

One was a toned young man with slightly wavy brown hair, green eyes, and an olive skin tone. He wore a plain yellow shirt and khaki pants, and generally looked like a very cheerful person. He smiled with ease as he greeted Prussia.

The other was tall and blond with bright blue eyes. His hair came down to his shoulders and he had the beginnings of a beard on his chin. He was taller than the first man but the same height as Prussia. He wore a purple-blue shirt and red pants.

"Antonio, Francis, come on in." Prussia said, shutting the door behind them so as not to let any of the snow in the house. The two hung up their coats and surveyed the scene. The blond's eyes lit up when he saw Alfred and Arthur.

"Ohonhon, mes amies, I didn't know you knew each other!" He grinned.

"Bloody frog, how do you and Prussia know each other?" Arthur blustered.

"Wait, Arthur, you and France know each other?" Prussia interjected, looking in between the two confusedly.

"Mais bien sûr! I was the one that helped them track down you and Mateiu!" Francis stated, pronouncing 'Matthew' the french way.

"Well..." Antonio butted in, "It seems like we all knew each other, but we just didn't know it. Sounds like an opera!"

An awkward silence ensued, due to Antonio's apparent inability to read the mood. Finally, Prussia coughed and said, "Well, I guess there's no point in introducing France, since we all know him. But this is Antonio, or Spain."

He gave a wave and a small smile. "You can call me either. It doesn't matter."

"Bro, I am _so_ calling you Spain, that's a wicked country to be named after!" Alfred jumped up excitedly, running over to Antonio and shaking his hand furiously. "I love churros!"

"They are so good, amigo!" Antonio spoke quickly, his green eyes flashing. "But you have to try paella! You do like tomatoes, right?"

"Speaking of food, is your cooking still horrid as ever?" Francis turned on Arthur. "Has Alfred gotten over his food poisoning yet?"

"For God's sake, that was _one time!_ " Arthur said defensively. "I've never gotten sick from my cooking!"

"That's because you have a cast-iron stomach. My stomach is as delicate as a flower, only meant to consume the most elegant things."

"Brooo, tomate frito tastes good on anything!"

"Flowers will always wilt, frog!"

"But you have to try teja!"

"They'll only wilt as fast as Alfred's stomach emptied its contents on my Persian rug if they're in acid rain!"

"All that dried fruit doesn't appeal to me, I prefer chocolate."

"WHOSE COOKING ARE YOU LIKENING TO ACID RAIN?!"

Prussia watched the whole scene unfold with his mouth hanging open. Spain and Alfred were getting on like old friends while France and Arthur were choking each other over food poisoning and flower metaphors. Finally, he decided to interrupt.

"BEER!" He screamed over the whole mess. "BEER!"

The four fell silent, Arthur putting Francis in a choke hold and Antonio showing Alfred some pictures of his pet turtle.

"Food from my country, especially beer, is superior to everything." He continued more calmly.

This resulted in the argument erupting again, this time including Prussia, Antonio, and Alfred.

A half hour later, when the whole thing had finally blown over, France, Spain, and Prussia were seated on the couch, each with their respective computers. The living room had become their tech HQ, with the coffee table crammed with wires and cables and modems and other gear that Arthur and Alfred had no idea what they were, but looked expensive.

"So, we're tracking down someone on the deep web?" Antonio asked, clicking the app.

"Yeah, the dude's name is psychomaster. We gotta be careful though, I tried to track him down once before and my computer got infected with a virus." Prussia warned the others.

"Oui, I heard about that on the news." Francis said, typing psychomaster into the search engine.

"Don't remind me." Prussia said, fingers already going at with lines of code.

"Hey, why are you guys the Bad Touch Trio?" Alfred asked rather suddenly. "And why are you all named after countries?"

The trio stopped typing for a moment, looked at each other, and resumed as Prussia told the story.

"Well, when we first met we were all pretty experienced hackers, and we would always laugh about how whatever websites we touched turned bad. Besides, it just seemed like a cool name." Prussia explained. "And for the country thing..." He trailed off, fingering the hem of his sleeve thoughtfully. "Well, it's where we're all from, and at the time we all wanted to forget our old names and the memories they held." And he turned back to the computer as if to finalize that statement.

The Bad Touch Trio got a lot done that day, or so they said. Arthur and Alfred had no idea how their progress was going. Whenever they looked over someone's shoulder, all they saw was a lot of unintelligible words and occasionally Facebook, but apparently it was going well. Antonio had to take a bus to get back to his house, but Francis had offered to walk Arthur and Alfred home.

"Did you actually get stuff done? I mean, I'm no expert, but Facebook isn't the deep web." Alfred asked France as they tromped their way through the snowbanks.

"Oui, and you'd be surprised at how much information Facebook has access to. With a few guessed passwords and well-placed lines of code, you can get access to a huge library of data." He replied sweetly.

"I do hope you manage to track down psychomaster though..." Arthur sighed. "I wonder where Matthew is."

"Psychomaster... I swear someone said that to me before." Alfred mumbled to himself.

"Ah, moi aussi. What has happened to Mateiu is terrible, and psychomaster must be stopped." France answered Arthur.

They reached Arthur and Alfred's apartment building. "Well, I suppose this is where I leave you." France said charmingly. "Au revoir!"

Arthur and Alfred entered and began the walk up the stairs, as the building's elevator was broken. France lingered there for a moment, then began walking to his own home.

 _Mon amour Arthur, pourquoi tu l'aime? Il est_ _très fou._ He chuckled to himself, rather sadly in the winter evening.

* * *

 **poor francis! translation: my love arthur, why do you love him? he's very silly.**

 **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

 **this chapter turned out longer than expected. i was gonna put some of Matthew in it, but i guess that'll be next chapter.**


	14. Chapter 13

Matthew opened his eyes and groaned. _Where am I?_ He thought.

He looked around. It appeared he was in some sort of... Basement-turned-prison-cell. There were windows, but they were close to the ceiling and barred off. There was also a staircase going up, but it had been blocked off with a barrier of sturdy oak and some metal bars. The floor was cement and very, very cold. There was also what appeared to be a trapdoor in the ceiling, but no ladder to get up to it. In one corner, there was a mattress, which he was seated on, and in another there was a plate of cold food. It took him a while to realize he was shackled to the wall.

He tried to move his leg, then bit his lip as a searing pain stabbed him. He also became aware of the dried blood on his arms and legs, and his bruised knees. He couldn't remember what day it was.

What had happened? Had he been drugged? He closed his eyes and tried to remember. He was sitting in the living room... He was being hit repeatedly... And he was writing a note. That's all he remembered. Who had been hitting him and if he had been drugged, he didn't know. All he knew is that one moment he was there, then he was here.

A crackling sound jerked him out of his thoughts. It took him a while to realize the sound was coming from a speaker in the wall.

"Good morning." A voice said. The voice sounded automated, yet vaguely familiar. He squinted his eyes. Where had he heard that voice before?

"H-hello?" Matthew choked out. His voice was rough and scratchy, and as he was speaking all of a sudden he felt dehydrated.

"Easy." The voice said again. It was getting easier to place it now. Matthew knew he had heard it sometime in the past few days. "You've been asleep for a day."

"Who are you?" Matthew asked.

"The man who kidnapped you." The voice answered. "But don't worry, I'm not psychomaster. Master prefers servants to do the dirty work."

"Who is psychomaster?" Matthew rasped, feeling more dehydrated every second. He also felt confused and a bit sick.

"Prussia didn't tell you? Dear me." The voice chuckled. "You're going to have a hard time figuring it out then." The crackling stopped. The voice was gone.

Matthew sank back down on the mattress, shivering from fear. Who was psychomaster? Why was Prussia in on this? What had happened?

-oooo-

It was twelve P.M. at Prussia's house, and three sets of fingers were manically going at it on three different computers.

However, three different minds were on three different things.

Spain was thinking about how he should really text his boyfriend. France was thinking about Arthur and how he really wanted to- well, maybe it's best you don't get those details. And Prussia was fretting over Matthew.

He couldn't help but feel it was all his fault that he got kidnapped. Psychomaster had given him advice, actual advice, and he had ignored it. But that was really his plan all along, to get Prussia out of the house so he could swoop in and get Matthew. And he'd fallen for it, just like he'd fallen for the fake link to attack his computer with a virus.

He was so stupid.

He typed faster and more furiously, carefully avoiding any lines of code that psychomaster would find suspicious. As long as psychomaster thought he was calling the police or something useless like that, he was going to keep it that way.

-oooo-

Despite his calm actions, Alfred was freaking out.

It hadn't been too long since his brother was kidnapped, but the Bad Touch Trio seemed seemed to be making no progress whatsoever.

I mean, sure, they said they were doing great, but who knows what that meant? Who knows how long it would take to track down Matthew. He could be dead! He could be starving! He could be someone's sex slave!

What made him feel even worse was that he couldn't do anything to help. He was the hero, and yet he couldn't even do anything to save his own brother from the hellish nightmare he was surely in. Prussia, Spain, and France were hacking away, and yet he was sitting at home with Arthur twiddling his thumbs. It was all he could do not to grab his own computer and have a go at it himself, although he knew this would just undermine their efforts to get his brother back safely. He felt utterly useless.

"Dammit Arthur, can't I do anything?" He grumbled to his boyfriend.

"You can kick the kidnapper's arse when we find him." Arthur offered helpfully.

-oooo-

Several hours later, and several more miles away, the trapdoor in Matthew's prison/hell opened and someone-something-lowered down a tray with a glass of water and a plate of potato pancakes. Matthew thanked God that at least they were feeding him.

As soon as the trapdoor closed, his shackles snapped open and he crawled over to the tray, first and foremost gulping down the glass of water.

As he ate, his memory started to come back. He remembered sitting on the couch, the door busting open and a man in a mask coming in. He held him at gunpoint and forced him to write that note. Then he slugged him a few times and he passed out. Either it was concussion-induced amnesia, or they drugged him while he was blacked out. He didn't even want to know.

He shivered, less out of fear this time and more out of cold. Now that he knew how it had happened, he just had to figure out why.

* * *

 **Lol i just realized when i was planning out my chapters i skipped a chapter and i went from chapter 13 to chapter 15 so idk what to do for the next chapter**


	15. Chapter 14

**I AM BASKING IN YOUR THEORIES GIVE ME MORE WHO DO U THINK PSYCHOMASTER IS?**

* * *

Everyone was at Prussia's house when it happened.

Everyone meaning the whole gang- Alfred, Arthur, Antonio and Francis. The Bad Touch Trio were doing some hacking as usual and Arthur insisted he be present so he could feel like he was doing something.

It was relatively quiet; just the sound of clicking keyboards and the crunching sounds of Alfred trying and failing to eat one of Arthur's scones without offending him. Then the loud sound of Prussia's phone ringing interrupted the calm.

Prussia went to go get it. "Hello?"

"Prussia," Rasped the voice on the other end. It sounded unnatural and distorted, like the killer's voice in Scream, but he could tell the person had a Russian accent. "I can finally talk to you."

Prussia tensed up. "Who is this? Is this psychomaster?!"

The others whipped their heads around to look at him. "Put it on speaker phone!" France whispered. Prussia did so, his finger shaking as he pressed the button.

"Now that this is a phone call that can't be traced, I suppose it won't hurt to admit it. Yes, it is I." Everyone heard the amused tone in the voice, tumbling out of the speaker and curling around them like thick black smoke.

"Don't be too sure this phone call can't be traced!" Prussia yelled suddenly. He was going to say more, but Antonio clamped a firm hand over his mouth.

The voice chuckled. "I can hear you have friends with you. That is good, you are not so dumb as I thought. However, I must warn you," here the voice got darker and more intimidating, "if you try to find Matthew or rescue him, there will be grave consequences. Someone may be killed. Maybe you, maybe him. I can't say. I can just warn you to stay away." The line went dead.

 _"DID HE JUST MOTHERFUCKING RHYME IN A THREAT?!"_ Prussia screamed, as soon as psychomaster had hung up.

"Prussia, calm down-"

"I CAN'T CALM DOWN! THIS BITCH KIDNAPPED HIM AND I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" And with that, Prussia promptly stormed upstairs to his room like a little girl.

The other four just looked at each other. "Should I go after him?" Alfred asked. The others nodded and he ran up the stairs.

-oooo-

Matthew pried his eyes open. It was the next day.

He knew because of the little light that made it through the windows was morning light, and because he was hungry again. And shackled to the wall again. Matthew tried to move his arms but they were solidly rooted in place. "Damn it!"

The water and pancakes from last night had barely filled him up, and his stomach was hollow, that gnawing empty that you don't notice but every once in a while it jumps and stabs you in the gut to remind you you're half-starved. It hurt to swallow and his bones and muscles ached even more now.

"Why is this happening to me?" He murmured, it coming out long and whiny like a small child pouting. The only difference was he really did have something to pout about.

-oooo-

"Prussia?"

"Get out."

Prussia was slumped at a desk; Alfred recognized it as IKEA furniture. An open bottle of liquor was clutched in his hand, and as Alfred entered he took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Prussia, I know this is hard-" Alfred began. He meant well, but he did sound patronizing.

"Why aren't you like this?" Prussia asked him accusingly. "He's your own damn brother!"

"Oh my God... You're in love with him." Alfred replied, choosing to ignore Prussia's statement.

"Like fuck I am." He took another sip. "But what can we do? Prick probably has the place surrounded."

"But we can do something," Alfred said, struggling to remain positive while being overcome by his own feelings of dread. "The last time psychomaster gave you advice, you didn't follow it thinking it was a trap."

"Right. And I learned my fuckin' lesson-"

"No, that's what he wants you to do. He'll expect you to learn from last time and follow his advice. Well, as soon as you find his location, we'll go to wherever he is and take that motherfucker down." Alfred said confidently, his hero mentality returning to him. "And we'll rescue my brother."

"Okay..." Prussia put his head in his hands. "I just can't do any more hacking right now."

Nodding understandably, Alfred left the room, waiting to be greeted by a chorus of 'well?' from the other three. Unfortunately, that's not what he came down to.

Spain was in the kitchen, yelling excitedly into his phone, completely oblivious to France kissing a shocked Arthur in the living room. Alfred watched the scene for a moment, then calmly interrupted France and Arthur, took Arthur by the arm and left.

-oooo-

Matthew shivered on his mattress. Whoever was talking to him through the intercom had left the microphone on and he could hear snippets of conversation. But the conversation sounded normal. A man was talking to a woman about what to have for dinner. They weren't diabolically plotting his demise.

But while the man and woman arguing over chicken or pork weren't plotting anything, someone was. And as long as that microphone was left on, he was going to hear it.


	16. Chapter 15

**I'm sorry about not updating earlier, I would have but my computer was being annoying and it wouldn't let me log into** **fan fiction, so i just wrote this chapter in a notebook. Just a warning, you might know who psychomaster is by the end of this chapter. I keep putting in crucial details! argh!**

* * *

 _Pshht. Fzzt. Crackle crackle._ Matthew listened carefully to the speaker, that, thankfully, had been left on. He hadn't heard anything useful yet, but he was praying he would.

A woman's voice caught his ear. Not the same voice that was talking about supper, but someone else. This voice was lower, and the accent harsher. There was a teasing quality about it, and it made him shiver.

"Why is this left on?" She said angrily.

So she knew about the speaker. The man and woman before either didn't know or didn't care. Another voice sounded in the background, the same voice that had been speaking to Matthew for the past four days. He was apologizing profusely. The woman swore and then the speaker was switched off.

Matthew leaned back, letting his head bump softly against the rough wall. So it was a woman behind all this?

He groaned. What possible reason could she have to kidnap him?

-oooo-

Prussia rubbed his eyes, taking a short break from hacking to get himself more coffee.

Himself, Spain, and France had been going at it for a while now, and it had gotten a lot harder. Francis had cracked psychomaster's locator yesterday, so they had gotten a drink to celebrate. However, this morning they had started the tedious task of sorting through lines and lines of code. They had to be extra careful translating them, because if psychomaster discovered that they had gotten into his GPS, he would most certainly do something awful to Mattie. That was a consequence Prussia wasn't even willing to think about.

All the hacking was starting to get to him. Even when we wasn't hacking, lines of code danced before his eyes. He kept having a recurring dream about Matthew, tied up somewhere, bruised and bloody, maybe dead. Sometimes in the dream, it was Prussia that was dead. But it always retained its layout: same hollow, despairing aura, same drab grey palette, same flood of dark, raw emotion that even by day he drowned in.

He took a gulp of coffee, his throat numb to the steaming heat, and passed a mug to Antonio and Francis. The three of them stood wordlessly in the kitchen, sipping their hot beverages. Prussia realized he was standing in the same spot Matthew always stood, and sniffed back a tear.

"You okay, amigo?" Antonio asked. Prussia nodded, tracing a design on his mug.

"Let's get back at it." He suggested, and the others nodded, following him back into the living room.

Sitting back down, Prussia cracked his knuckles and scrolled through the seemingly meaningless numbers and figures. Suddenly, he stopped. There was one line that he felt held an answer. He didn't know why, he just felt this was it. He highlighted it, then copy-and-pasted it into the translator.

For the first time since Matthew got kidnapped, he smiled

 _New York City._

Three words. Three words and they psychomaster's location. Psychomaster was in New York City.

"Guys!" He shouted, standing up suddenly. "I know where he is!"

-oooo-

The trapdoor opened again, and a meal was lowered down. Matthew poked at it nervously. It smelled spicy. He'd read a book once where a man had been poisoned because he hadn't tasted the drug in his spicy food... A loud rumble from his stomach interrupted his thoughts, and, giving in, he began to eat.

The ceiling shook, and he looked up. What was happening?

There was a metallic clang, followed by a thud and running footsteps. Matthew winced.

The speaker crackled to life and the voice came on. "We're going to need you to be extra quiet right now, or who knows what could happen to you?" The voice was trying to be menacing, but Matthew could hear him trembling.

Matthew drank some water and thought. He began to deduce who was in the house and who actually knew about him.

It was most likely a family. From what he knew, there were two men and two women living together. They must have been having a family dispute. Although that clang sounded ominous, if it was a family of kidnappers he shouldn't be surprised. Then again, why should the one man tell him to be quiet if they all knew about him? So either both the other two were in the dark, or just one was.

But why had they kidnapped him in the first place? Was it random and they were just holding him for bail? Or was it for a personal matter?

Matthew was inclined to think the latter. He worked at Starbucks for God's sake.

He thought back, but could think of no reason why anyone would want to torture him like this. Perhaps it was something that Prussia did...

He forcibly shook his head. Prussia would never willingly let his friend suffer, would he? Unless he was in on it the whole time and this was an elaborate ruse. Matthew pushed that thought away. _No, no._ He told himself. _Not possible._

He continued eating, trying not to think of Prussia yet thinking of nothing else.

-oooo-

Alfred eyed his phone warily, glancing at the caller ID stating it was Prussia. After his fight with Arthur last night, he really didn't want any more bad news.

He picked it up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Alfred!" Prussia's voice screeched on the other end. "We have good news!"

"What?"

"He's in New York! New York City. We don't know exactly where, but that is a clue!"

Alfred realized he was biting his lip so hard it bled. He wiped his lip and relaxed his jaw. "Thank you." He managed.

Maybe they could do this. Maybe it was possible to save him. Maybe...

* * *

 **yeah you probably know who it is now. I don't know anything about translating code, so i just made it up. and as for their city, idk either. ill decide in the next chapter. ^J^**


	17. Chapter 16

**guess who actually took the time to (shittily) edit a picture for their cover photo instead of just stealing someone's fanart? that's right, me! I wish i had photoshop tho, its just clumsily edited on iphoto :-/**

* * *

Prussia's alarm went off. It was tuned to his favourite radio station, so it wasn't a rude awakening. However, he still attempted to ignore it and smushed a pillow over his face. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he got up, turned it off, then went downstairs.

Some say the kitchen is the heart of the home. If that's true, Prussia's kitchen was the saddest reflection on its owner ever seen.

It was a mess, dirty dishes and half-full containers of re-heated Chinese takeout littered the table and counters. The floor was a mess, garbage everywhere and the tiles cracked and in desperate need of repair. The only thing in his fridge, which, a week ago, had been full, was a beer and a head of lettuce.

Upon entering this mess, Prussia waded through the trash on the floor, making his way over to the coffee machine. He changed the bag, filled up the pot, and set it to boil. He then promptly walked into the living room and collapsed on his couch. Burying his head in the cushions, he waited for the onslaught of tears to come.

He'd had the dream again that night. Matthew was in a dark cellar, glasses smashed, beautiful violet eyes filled with tears. He tried to reach out to him but he just hit an impenetrable glass wall. He had to watch, helpless, as a shadowy figure slugged Matthew again and again. He screamed and pounded on the glass but he could never reach Matthew.

The coffee machine beeped and Prussia got up, turning the now damp cushion to the dry side.

The last few days had flowed by like molasses: slow and heavy. The only time he felt alive was when he was hacking. It was his natural habitat, to have that machine silently pumping and churning beneath his fingertips. The tapping and clicking was like music to his ears. It was the only thing that he had motivation for, the only thing that could bring back Matthew.

Prussia poured his coffee into a mug and sipped it, the caffeine hardly having any effect on him anymore. The clock on his microwave read 8:51 A.M. His kitchen floor was cold. A bird chirped outside.

He let his eyes glaze over, his hand stop twitching, his muscles relax and and his shoulders drop. He stared at a spot on his kitchen counter, and a song played in the back of his head. He let himself lose focus on the world around him and nothing but the song occupy his thoughts; so much that he could swear someone very far away was playing the song. There was almost a moment of clarity, a moment where the dark cloud was temporarily overcome by a bright sun. It was the first moment of peace he'd had in a while.

And then the doorbell rang, startling him back to reality and the dark cloud back to its place over his head.

"Shit!" He exclaimed. He was standing alone in his kitchen in only his boxers and t-shirt with a cold mug of coffee. The doorbell rang once again. He set down his coffee and rushed upstairs.

 _Pants, pants,_ he thought frantically as he stumbled into his room. He spied a pair and shoved them on, realizing they were yesterday's pants. Come to think of it, he was wearing yesterday's shirt as well. He stuck a breath mint in his mouth, rearranged his hair, and ran back down to answer the door.

The other two thirds of the Bad Touch Trio were there, as always. He let them in, and after exchanging small talk for five minutes, they set to work.

Prussia was in the zone now, hacking away. As he translated lines of code, his thoughts drifted from saving Matthew to Matthew himself.

He had never guessed, that on the day when they first met, when Matthew was a simple runaway trying to steal a living and he was a simple hacker whose life had little to no meaning at all, that he would fall in love with him. Ever since he had first run away he'd told himself no feelings; no more love and kindness, no anger or hate. Just success and money and living day to day without starving or getting himself killed. But Matthew was a different story. He'd felt something the moment he looked into those purple eyes, he just didn't know what that something was or would be. Love, Prussia was beginning to understand, was something that hit you unexpectedly.

Sighing, he looked at the time and realized they'd been working for an hour and a half. His wrist was getting cramped. He stopped typing and relaxed his fingers, massaging them.

 _This is tedious_. He thought. _Goddamn psychomaster is probably watching our every move and laughing at us. Maybe he isn't in New York. Maybe that was a decoy. Maybe he's right here in Philly, laughing at us._ Prussia was restless and slightly annoyed, but underneath it all he was scared. He was afraid because he loved Matthew, and he knew he might never see him again.

* * *

 **God this was cliche. Urrrghhh. I think i judge my work a little too harshly. Sigh. Sorry this took so long but im going back to school soon and im a little stressed.**


	18. Chapter 17

Prussia's doorbell rang and the usual four men stood on the doorstep.

He let them in, his smile not feeling as forced as it had the past few days. He didn't know why, but he'd had a feeling that something good was going to happen.

He liked that feeling.

It had been so long since he had even felt remotely optimistic, that he decided not to question it. The feeling was sweet, so he clung to it.

Everyone else seemed optimistic, too. Spain was chatting to anyone who would listen about a new tomato dish he'd made, Alfred was nodding along, and Francis and Arthur weren't strangling each other, or at least giving each other dirty looks.

The five exchanged greetings and sat down on Prussia's couch, opening up their respective laptops and spreading around their material. "It's insane how much _stuff_ you need!" Alfred commented.

"I could say the same about your hair products." Arthur said slyly. Prussia snickered.

"A hero is worthy of heroic hair!" Alfred defended himself. "Don't pretend you don't care about what you look like, I've seen how much work goes into those eyebrows."

"Th-that's ridiculous!" Arthur stumbled over his words. "My eyebrows are completely natural."

"Darkening powder, thickening serum," Alfred listed them off. "And I bet the reason you have no hair anywhere else is that it all goes to your eyebrows!"

The others burst into hysterical laughter as Arthur blushed and protested weakly. "Alfred! That- that is a personal detail!"

"So it's true then?" Francis asked, making Prussia and Spain laugh harder.

"None of your bloody business!" He cried, his accent becoming more pronounced.

The Bad Touch Trio continued laughing while Arthur, crossed his arms in a huff. Alfred was giggling by this point too. "Sorry, Iggy!"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

Spain, having calmed down somewhat, took a sip of his coffee he'd bought from Starbucks on the way over. Still giggling, he glanced at his computer screen and promptly spit out his mouthful of coffee.

"Jesus Toni, you okay?" Prussia asked, thumping him on the back.

"Fine, but Prussia, look!" He gestured at the screen. Prussia looked.

The screen was tuned into psychomaster's devices. Every device he owned was listed on the page. However, there was a new one. And it wasn't named _laptop one_ or something mundane like that. It was named _Matthew's tracker._

"Can you tap into it?" He whispered. For some reason, he felt whispering was important at the moment.

"Hold on." Spain whispered back, then clicked on something and began typing fast. The others were looking on curiously.

"What's that, mon ami?" Francis asked.

"Ssh!" Prussia hissed, close to insane.

They all sat, in dumbfounded silence, until Antonio pressed the keyboard one final time, leaned back, and said, "There it is. We have his exact location."

There was a general outcry of "holy shit," mostly from Alfred, and the other three all jostled Spain and Prussia to get a good look at the computer.

 _516 West 140th Street, New York, NY, USA._

"We've got it!" Alfred yelled. "We can finally rescue him!"

In complete elation, they all started cheering. A few hugs were exchanged, a few tears were shed. Then they started planning.

"Tomorrow." Prussia declared. "Tomorrow we'll rescue him. It shouldn't take that long to get there, right?"

France looked it up. "Google maps says its only two hours on the main highway." He reported.

"Okay, who's got a car?" Prussia asked.

No-one answered.

"Nobody has a car?!" He asked.

"Well, I know someone who does." Antonio said.

"Excellent. Can he drive us?"

"Probably. Get ready for a lot of swearing though." He grumbled as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "Lovi?"

"What is it now, Tomato Bastard?" A voice blasted through Antonio's cell phone. The others exchanged looks.

"I need you to drive me and my friends to New York City this weekend."

"No."

"Please?"

"The answer is no."

A grin crossed Antonio's face as though he had just got an idea, and he whispered something into his phone.

"Fine, fine I'll do it."

"Thanks!"

"Where are you?" Antonio gave him Prussia's address and there was silence for a moment.

"Okay. Ti amo, bastard." At this, the others couldn't help giggling a little.

"AM I ON SPEAKERPHONE?" He roared.

"Bye Lovi!" Spain sang sweetly and hung up.

Five minutes later, a red car screeched to a halt beside Prussia's house. They watched through the window as the man inside exited. He was fairly tall with dark brown hair, which, other than one stray curl in the middle of his head, was combed neatly. His eyes appeared to be either green or a golden brown colour, they kept oscillating in the light. A sour expression rested on his face as he walked up to Prussia's door and pulled at the bell.

"All right, let's get this over with, damn it." He growled, once inside. "So why are we going to New York?"

"Alfred's brother was kidnapped and we're rescuing him." Spain answered briefly.

"Okay, so we'll need six of us and some guns."

"They don't allow people to bring guns over the state border, though." Prussia cut in.

"Right, right. Okay, come on." He replied, turning around to head back out to his car again. "Oh, and," He stopped and faced them again. "My name is Lovino."


	19. Chapter 18

The true thing about being isolated for a while is you start to see things that aren't really there.

That's why, when Matthew first saw the woman standing over him, he thought it was a hallucination.

"Hello?" She muttered in her accent, shaking his shoulders. He blinked and sat up, trying to make sense of the sight.

She was young, more like a girl than a woman, and she wore an old-fashioned purple dress with a ruffly collar and puffed sleeves. Her unblinking eyes that stared into his were large, round, and dark, and they could have been beautiful had they not been so hollow. Her long dirty blonde hair had a white bow in it and she wore brown loafers. Everything she wore was spotlessly clean and she was very pretty.

"Good, you're alive." She said without even a twinge of humour. Her voice was strange; it was high and lilting at some parts and deep and grating at others. Her accent was prominent and she emphasized the wrong syllables. She sat back on her heels and sighed.

Matthew grunted a yes and tried to move his leg. There was something squeezing his ankle. He looked and it was a ring of iron, securely fastened. There were buttons and lights blinking on it, and it vibrated. "What is that?" He asked the girl.

"Your tracker." She replied, fiddling with the shackles that held his hands in place. There was a snapping noise and they popped open. Matthew let his hands fall and rubbed his wrists. "You can come and go as you are pleasing now, but try to escape and I shall know."

He nodded to show he understood.

"There are few rules you should know before I let you go." She continued. "I am Natalya. You are Alfred, and you are in love with my brother Ivan."

 _What?_ Matthew thought. _I'm not Alfred, why am I pretending to be him, and more importantly why am I pretending to be in love with this girl's brother?_

"You came here on your own free will." Natalya looked Matthew straight in the face, and he found it hard to look away. "Because you saw the error of your ways and decided not to break his poor heart further."

Matthew nodded numbly. She leaned in, almost so that their noses were touching, and whispered, "Please know that you take the place of your brother, who I would have taken had he not been hit by a car. Just play your part and everything will be the right."

"There are more," She nodded, "But we can be going over those later. For now, come." She grabbed his still-sore wrist and lead him over to the stairs, her shoes clicking on the cold stone floor.

As the pair reached the top, Natalya knocked on the door three times in quick succession. It was then opened a crack by a young man with somewhat long brown hair and bright blue eyes. "Ms. Natalya, ma'am, you have him." He whispered. In spite of the situation, he was smiling at her.

She nodded. "Yes Toris, and do not say a word to the other two. I'll break your fingers again." Matthew noted, with horror, that his hands and fingers were twisted peculiarly to suggest they had been broken and bent and mutilated many times.

And with that, the three started walking around the house.

-oooo-

Prussia glanced sidelong at Antonio's boyfriend, Lovino. He looked very familiar. He was sure he'd seen that face before.

The six of them were on their way to New York City with Lovino driving. Prussia wasn't even sure how all six of them had managed to squish themselves into Lovino's convertible, but they did it. Now it was only a matter of time before they got pulled over by the police.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He asked him.

Lovino looked at him, not even paying attention to the road as he drove. "No we haven't, bastard, now shut the hell up."

 _Of course we haven't._ Prussia thought ruefully. _I've never met anyone as rude as him._

"You know, I think I remember I where I heard that phrase before." Alfred mentioned.

"Which phrase?" Francis questioned.

"Psychomaster!" He replied. "She said it to me."

"The girl who was harassing you so badly you needed to fake your death?" Arthur asked. "Natalya?"

-oooo-

As they walked, Matthew looked about him in wonder. The house was big and splendid, wide halls and nice paintings on the walls. Every so often he caught a glimpse into one of the rooms; a bedroom, a bathroom, a makeup room where a pale-haired girl with large breasts was powdering her face. Eventually though, Matthew, Natalya, and the other man found themselves in a living room, where a man with white hair and a long scarf was sitting on a couch, petting a brown cat and watching television.

He turned as they entered. "Sister? Who is this?"

 _This is her brother!_ Matthew thought in a panic. _Ivan, the one I'm supposed to be in love with!_

"Big brother, this is Alfred." She lied, smiling. Matthew bit his lip. Was he supposed to do something?

The man, Ivan, stared at them for a moment, confusion clearly written on his face. Then he grasped the remote, flipped off the television, and smiled. "You are wrong. Alfie is dead!"

That's when Matthew understood.

* * *

 **And now all the cards are on the table. Well, most of them.**


	20. Chapter 19

_It's Ivan Braginski,_ Matthew thought. _That kid we used to know in school. I hardly recognize him._

"Wh-what do you mean?" Natalya stuttered. She wasn't expecting that he would know the truth. "Of course he isn't dead, he's right here."

"Sister, you can't keep these things from me forever. You are thinking you have me fooled but I know he is dead." Ivan pointed out. "Besides, this is his brother, Matthew."

It was silent for a moment. Matthew could feel Natalya seething while Ivan went back to petting his cat.

"Big brother-" She began.

"Did you kidnap him?" Ivan asked suddenly. His purple eyes stared into hers.

"No." She said in a tone of impeccable innocence. Not too overdone either. She was a perfect liar.

"You know how I feel about it when you kidnap people." He admonished.

 _So this has happened more than once?_ Matthew thought incredulously.

"Big brother, I'm wearing the dress you gave me." She tried. A different tactic.

Ivan frowned. "That will change nothing. Have not you learned?"

How had she done this before, and how had she gotten away with it? Unless the person was-Matthew shuddered as he thought of it-dead.

Ivan's eyes raked over Matthew, taking in his messy hair, dirty clothes, bloodied hands, and especially the not-well concealed tracker on his ankle. Besides, if the two of them were actually in a relationship, Ivan would find out about it eventually. It was obvious Natalya hadn't thought it out very well.

"Let him go." He said, his voice softening. He felt bad for Matthew, he knew first-hand what it was like to be at the mercy of that girl.

Natalya's eyes flashed. Matthew didn't know what was in that flash, defiance, love, insanity, or all three. "No." She stated simply.

"You go to too many lengths for my happiness, and all at other's expenses!" Ivan snapped. "Let him go, Natalya."

"You do not control me, Big Brother!" She cried childishly. "And he's Alfred's half-brother, they are practically the same person."

"No-one could be the same as Alfred." Ivan stated. Matthew expected to detect a hint of sorrow or regret in his voice, but he didn't. It was simply a fact. Ivan was acknowledging that Alfred was a unique person and no-one could take his place.

-oooo-

"What's going on, Toris?" One of the other servants, Eduard, whispered. He adjusted his glasses over his sea-green eyes. Toris had slipped away, not wanting to get any more involved in the argument, and had joined his fellow servants in the kitchen.

"I don't know." Toris lied. He wasn't very good at lying, so he avoided Eduard's gaze and instead looked at the wall behind him.

The truth was Natalya had promised him a date if everything went according to plan. Ever since he had started working as a servant in Mr. Braginski's house he'd had a crush on her. However, she despised him. He never knew why. It could be Mr. Braginski's apparent favouritsm, indeed the other two servants seemed to resent that about him as well. She abused him whenever she could, breaking his fingers, stomping on his toes, once even knocking him out with a baseball bat in a fit of rage. Yet he still liked her.

"It's something bad, whatever it is." The other servant, Raivis, piped up.

Toris nodded. "It is." He agreed, and he was being truthful.

-oooo-

"Big Brother, I can't let him go." Natalya was saying. "I shall keep him here, and you will fall in love with him." The finality of it scared Matthew. She then took his hand again and stomped off, calling "Toris!" As she did.

Ivan sank back into his couch cushions, sighing deeply. Natalya worried him. It was obvious there was something wrong with her, be it depression or schizophrenia, but she needed help. And this latest incident had just proved that even further.

He got up and walked toward the kitchen, hearing the scurrying footsteps of his servants tiptoeing away in fear. He entered the kitchen, took out a shot glass and a bottle of vodka, and took a quick shot.

Somewhere out there, there was someone missing Matthew. And sooner or later they would call the police, they would figure it out, and come knocking on his door. Natalya would be hauled off to jail, which would break her mental state even further. That couldn't happen.

He decanted a little more vodka into the shot glass, not enough to fill it all the way up, and sipped it thoughtfully.

He could try to contact any other relatives or friends of Matthew, but he didn't know how. Natalya was the one who knew about technology and computers and tracking people down. And he couldn't ask her for help to release her prisoner.

-oooo-

Up in her room, Natalya sat Matthew and Toris down on her bed, then grabbed her laptop and logged into the deep web. Furiously, she tapped out a couple lines of code and found Prussia.

A pop-up window appeared. It seemed to be a message for her. It read as follows:

 _Hello, you sick bastard. If you're reading this it means you have found out, or you are about to find out, that your computer has been hacked and your location stolen. That's right motherfucker, we're coming for Matthew._

-oooo-

Ivan winced as he heard Natalya screaming from upstairs. A moment later she ran down the stairs, outside, and into the garage. He heard the slapping and rustling of different cardboard boxes.

He walked outside to check on her, and found her crying hysterically while sitting in the cardboard box that the refrigerator came in.


	21. Chapter 20

The red convertible zipped along highway 1-676 with the six hot, squished friends fidgeting in impatience and nervousness. Lovino was driving, Antonio was in the passengers seat, Prussia and Francis were shoved up against the back doors, and Arthur was sitting on Alfred's lap in the middle. The four in the back were engaged in a heated debate while the two in the front sat in silence. Antonio looked at his boyfriend and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this? You've never even met Matthew."

"Neither have you." Lovino pointed out. "Besides, I'm doing this for you. If it's important to you, it's important to me." He said this all with a scowl on his face.

"Aw, thank you Lovi!" Spain cooed and leaned over to hug him.

The car swerved as Lovino jumped and twitched the steering wheel. "Idiot! Don't hug me while I'm driving!" The four in the back, who were a little startled, simply shook themselves and continued with their conversation.

"So, are you ready to get your brother back?" Francis nudged Alfred.

"You know it, dude!" He whooped. Turning to Prussia, he said, "That was so badass, that message you left for psychomaster!"

Prussia grinned, feeling adrenaline rush through him. "Thanks, I'm pretty proud of that myself."

Lovino spun the wheel and the car turned onto the exit for New York City. Alfred cheered as Times Square came into view. "I'm back home bro!" The rest of them either rolled their eyes or chuckled.

France pulled out his phone and quickly entered the address of the house into google maps, giving directions to Lovino as they drove. It wasn't long before they arrived.

The house wasn't exactly as they imagined it. Alfred imagined it as some spooky, haunted old house on top of a hill in the outskirts of town. Prussia imagined it a vast, cold mansion, huge and forbidding. In reality it was neither of those. It was on the larger side, but it wasn't a house you could get lost in. It wasn't the best looking house on the street, but it was rather nice and it had a pleasant atmosphere.

One by one, they all got out of the car, Lovino the last. "All right let's do this you bastards." He said darkly, and strode purposely up to the house. The others followed him, each less certain than the last.

Upon climbing the stairs and stepping onto the porch, two things happened. One, Lovino grasped the golden knocker and knocked several times, very hard, and yelled, "Open up bastards!" Two, Prussia looked at the window and saw Matthew inside, sitting demurely on a couch with another man beside him. This discovery made him slightly shocked, naturally, and he stumbled forward, knocking into Alfred, who knocked into Arthur, who knocked into Spain and Francis, who knocked into Lovino, who fell onto the place where the door would have been had it not been opened that very second by Ivan.

"Fuck!" Lovino shrieked as he saw he was about to fall onto who could very possibly be Matthew's kidnapper, who certainly looked very surprised to see six men at his door, all tripping over each other.

Ivan moved out of the way just in time, so all six of them face planted on Ivan's welcome mat while Toris, Matthew, Eduard, and another woman looked on from inside.

There was a great deal of swearing, and not just from Lovino. Prussia was the first to jump up, since he was on top of the pile. "Alright give us Matthew you little bitch!" He yelled.

"Prussia?" Matthew gasped. He stood up, bewildered, but Toris laid a hand on his arm and he didn't move any further.

Alfred was the next to jump up, about to say something as well, but one glance at Ivan's face and he turned pale. "Holy shit, Ivan?" He asked.

Ivan's confused eyes came to rest on Alfred's face, and he gasped. "Alfred? You-you're alive?"

"You two know each other?" Francis asked, getting up off the ground followed by Arthur, Antonio, and Lovino. Alfred nodded quickly.

"Uh, come in, da?" Ivan offered, and the six entered the house warily.

The house opened up to a living room area, with a couch, a couple armchairs, and a television. Ivan gestured for them to sit and they did. One quick nod at Toris made him leave, but Matthew remained. Prussia took the seat next to Matthew and clutched onto his arm, whispering, "We're going to get you out of here."

"Alfred. How are you still alive?" Ivan addressed him seriously.

"Well, bro, I kinda faked my death." He replied. "A question for a question, why did you kidnap my brother?"

Ivan took a deep breath and shook his head. "That was my sister."

"Natalya. That makes sense." Alfred pursed his lips, thinking. The others looked between Alfred and Ivan, wondering what their history together was.

"I- uh..." Alfred trailed off, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, okay? I just- I never meant to hurt you." He said, and sighed. Arthur nodded sympathetically.

Ivan smiled. "It's quite alright. I am just glad you are not dead and we can be friends."

"So... Matthew's free to go?" Prussia asked, still not believing everything that was happening.

Ivan nodded. "I apologize for any trouble Natalya might have caused you. She is mentally disturbed, and I am planning on taking her to a doctor soon. It's not much, but I can re-imburse you for your trouble."

They all nodded and sighed in relief, happy everything was fine and they could take Matthew home and no-one had gotten hurt.

"Not so damn fast." They heard. Natalya was standing on the stairs, fire in her eyes and a gun in her hands.


	22. Chapter 21

**holy shit! 54 reviews! thank you guys so much im so happy you like it! seriously ily all thank you thank you thank you!**

* * *

Everyone froze.

"Natalya?" Ivan said fearfully.

Natalya walked down the steps, slow and intimidating. Her shoes made clacking noises, her dress rustled, her free hand squeaked as she ran it down the bannister. Her eyes were fierce and her mouth was set in a thin, determined line. Light reflected off the gun, a simple .45, making the barrel gleam sinisterly. She reached the bottom of the stairs, pointed the gun at Alfred, and said, "Now that I know you're alive, I can't let you leave this house."

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Arthur suddenly shouted, jumping forward, trying to shield Alfred's body with his own.

Natalya merely cocked the gun and said, "So be it."

Time seemed to slow down. She adjusted her grip, clicked the hammer, and put her finger delicately on the trigger.

And then the doorbell rang.

Ivan got up, smiled and said, "Hold that thought." He went to go answer the door.

This seemed to break the spell. Everyone's shoulders, which they didn't know had been tensed up, relaxed. Prussia's iron grip on Matthew's wrist relaxed as well. Alfred rubbed his neck. Lovino looked between Alfred and Prussia, seeming a bit annoyed. Natalya looked confused, even a little scared.

Meanwhile, the person at the door was an Asian man with longish brown hair tied in a side ponytail. He wore a red t-shirt and in his hands he held a sunflower. Glimpsing what was going on inside, he asked, "Bad time?"

Ivan shook his head, smiling courteously. "Not at all. Come in." The man nodded and entered, handing Ivan the sunflower and following him into the living room area.

Everyone was still in the sam positions that they were when Ivan hand gone to answer the door; no-one had moved a muscle. Deliberately passing by Natalya, in one swift movement he snatched the gun from her hand and put it in his pocket.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"Big Brother!" She gasped, in a bit of a delayed reaction.

"You cannot force him to stay." He stated, his back to her. He placed the sunflower in a vase, where it stood with a dozen identical sunflowers.

"Big Brother, it is for you!" She protested. "It all is! Everything is, was, and will be! I am here for you."

"This is not the way to solve problems!" Ivan fired back. "Da, there was a time when having Alfred here would make me happy, but not now. I am moving on and you can't keep doing these things. They hurt people. Me, as well."

"I just want you to be happy, Big Brother!" She tried to yell, but her voice caught at the end.

The seven friends looked on, rather shocked. This seemingly cold, heartless woman was crying, the tears pooling in her eyes and dropping down her face. Without hesitation, she burst forward and buried her face in Ivan's shirt.

"I love you Big Brother and I hate seeing you sad because you deserve to be happy and I want to make that happen so badly and it just seems this is the only way to!" The words tumbled out of her mouth, bumping into each other and tangling themselves into one big knot of misguided love and affection.

Ivan put his arms around his sister and replied, "I am happy. I need you to believe me and to stop hurting others. My happiness is worth no more than theirs."

The two, brother and sister, just stood there. The others looked on, no longer fearing this girl. This girl who appeared strong as steel but was actually breakable as glass. The clock ticked loudly, and the atmosphere in the room was warm, but a damp warm, a cozy yet uncomfortable warm. It was the feel of intrusion, of witnessing a part of someone you previously hadn't seen, almost like peering through a keyhole into their soul.

At last, Natalya pulled away, sniffled, and turned to Matthew. Looking him directly in the eyes, she choked out, "I am sorry, Matthew. And Alfred. All of you." She slowly started to walk up the stairs again.

Prussia, Arthur, Alfred, Francis, Antonio, and Lovino looked at each other. The sharp stab of fear was gone, replaced by the ache of sadness and sympathy.

"Um, maybe we should go..." Prussia spoke up awkwardly.

Ivan nodded. "Bye then, and I am sorry for the trouble."

"Oh, it's no problem." Spain said cheerfully. Now that the danger had passed he was back to himself.

Lovino muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "No problem, my ass," and they left.

"Mattie, are you okay?" Alfred panicked, as soon as they were out of the house. "No bruises, no blood, no broken bones, no psychological scars?!"

The edges of Matthew's lips curled up. "I'm fine. And I think we can go home now."

Alfred whooped and Prussia hugged Matthew; Francis laughed, Lovino rolled his eyes and Antonio simply smiled. Arthur said dryly, "Well, that was all worth it, wasn't it?"

Lovino jumped into the driver's seat with Antonio next to him, leaving the others to squeeze themselves in the backseat. Once they were all situated, he revved the engine and pulled out of the parking spot, speeding back to Philadelphia with the sun setting overhead.

They were safe.

* * *

 **Damn, i did not think i was going to be able to stretch that out into 900 or more words. but for real, thank you guys once again for all the reviews im eternally grateful!**


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: as you can see, this is not the next chapter. I've merely added a couple of paragraphs i wanted to include.**

* * *

Matthew had never felt so hot, squished, and generally uncomfortable in his life.

But at the same time, he had never felt so happy, safe, and loved in his life.

The evening air was cold, and whipping through his hair it froze his ears. From the waist down he was burning up, shoved in between his brother and Prussia. Prussia's arms were snug around his middle and Alfred's were draped across his neck. He had fallen asleep long ago, his head resting on Arthur's shoulder, but Matthew felt perfectly awake.

The car made a sharp turn, jolting Alfred out of his snooze. "Huh? Are we there yet?" He muttered sleepily.

Francis shook his head. Matthew felt Prussia's arms leave his waist. A second later, he felt a hand on his head.

"Your hair is so soft..." Prussia murmured. "Like a bird."

This small comment, this tiny, insignificant observation, at that moment, had a huge impact on Matthew. The car rolled along the road. The sun was bright and orange, dragging itself down the sky. His stomach lurched and tears sprung to his eyes. He had just realized, just noticed, just discovered, how happy he was to be in the presence of the other.

He closed his eyes and let the newly discovered happiness overwhelm him.

-oooo-

"Alright, get out of the car, you bastards." Lovino's grouchy voice jerked Prussia out of his stupor. He was there. They were home. At last. Matthew crawled over his lap and opened the door. He followed, stretching his stiff legs.

"Goodnight guys, and thank you." Matthew smiled as he said it, and Prussia found himself smiling as well.

The pair entered the house, and it was comforting to see it almost exactly as it was before Matthew got kidnapped. Laptops and gadgets in the same positions, same take-out containers strewn around the kitchen, and the scent... Matthew breathed in the combination of coffee, cologne, and laundry detergent. It was a smell he'd grown to love.

"Glad to be back?" Prussia asked, a little uncomfortably. Matthew nodded. "Want a beer?" He continued.

"God yes." Matthew answered, and with a small laugh, Prussia retrieved two from the fridge. They sat down on the couch, took a few sips, and settled in.

It felt so right to be back, sitting on the same couch, drinking the same beer, talking and laughing about the same things. Matthew thought for sure the next day he'd be back to making pancakes and jokingly criticizing Prussia's organizational skills- or lack of. Yet, for all the completeness that filled him up at that moment, there was also an empty spot. For it was nice to have friends, there would always be a that spot that could only be filled by a lover. And he knew exactly who he wanted to fill it.

Prussia raised his can. "To your homecoming." Matthew raised his as well and they clinked and laughed.

Conversation was started relatively easy. It was remarkable how easy it was to avoid the topic of Matthew's kidnapping. Matthew just asked about the website and things took off from there. However, Prussia was growing rather impatient. There was something he needed to say to Matthew. Indeed, he should have said it long before Matthew ever got taken. But it was precisely him being taken that made Prussia realize he had to say it. So he did.

"I love you."

Matthew froze. For one mind-numbing, heart-stopping moment, Prussia thought he would reject him.

However, he didn't. He calmly put his beer down on the table, adding another ring to the table's collection, then launched himself forward onto Prussia's lips.

The moment was hard to describe. It didn't exactly come as a shock to Prussia, but it was shocking enough to make his red eyes widen and his mouth to open in surprise. But it was lovely enough to make him close his eyes and kiss him back.

And so he did.

The kiss was long and passionate. It was their way of communicating everything that they couldn't say. All the emotions, unspoken promises and clumsily stitched-together hearts, flowed between the two as they shared the moment.

Eventually, Matthew pulled away. His lips were pink and he was flushed. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that." He whispered. They kissed again.

The kissing was rough now, with each gasp Matthew leaned more into it. Bolts of electricity ricocheted to the tips of his fingers and pulsed throughout his body. He felt as though he was on fire. He could almost hear the heat, sizzling and cooking as it rose to his cheeks. Their mouths and tongues moved in sync, so perfectly in sync. Prussia's hand was in Matthew's hair, mussing the golden waves, but he didn't mind. Everything that went into that kiss, the lips and tongues and hands, the lust and longing, was the very epitome of how Matthew felt around Prussia. And he knew it was love.

Prussia pulled away, and they both sat on the couch, panting. "Come on," Prussia breathed, grabbing Matthew's hand, hand and leading him up to his bedroom.

Matthew's heart pounded in his chest, more out of excitement than anything else. It was really happening.

Prussia pulled him into the bedroom. The door shut.

-oooo-

Matthew's eyes slid open lazily. It was the next morning.

Sunlight was spotted around Prussia's bedroom; Prussia himself clutched Matthew like a teddy bear. Blankets were tangled around the two, messily snaked between their legs and bunched up under their arms. They were tangled in each other as well, pale limbs crisscrossing on the mattress. Matthew's golden head lay on Prussia's chest. Birds chirped outside and the snow shone. Prussia was snoring.

It was cold in the room, a clear-cut sort of cold, the kind that accompanies a cool blue sky and a feeble sun. The moment felt like a song Matthew had heard somewhere, sometime. He couldn't identify it, but it was guitars and drums and gentle singing, easy rock music.

He snuggled more into Prussia and closed his eyes. In a few minutes, he'd get up and make pancakes. Maple syrup would adorn them, as always. Prussia would come downstairs, in a t-shirt and boxers, and the day would begin. Everything would flow just as smoothly as maple syrup drizzles out of the bottle.

"I love you, Prussia."

* * *

 **This is, technically, the end. I've still got one more card to play though, so stay tuned for the epilogue! :D**


	24. Epilogue

**finally! I've been waiting for SO long to post this, you have no idea.**

 **Wow. I can't believe its over. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favourited, or even just read this. You are all appreciated. :') enjoy the epilogue, and thanks again!**

* * *

Prussia cracked his knuckles and let his fingers rest on the keyboard of his laptop. A, S, D, F. J, K, L, semicolon. He clicked 'new news item' on the moderator page of Safe Haven Hub's home screen, then started typing.

 _Hello everyone, admin here. Yes, the admin. For a long time, who I am has been a secret. But not anymore._

 _My name is Prussia and I am a 22 year old man. I live in Philadelphia, PA, USA, with my boyfriend Matthew. Five years ago today, I started my_ _website. Then, I was a teenage runaway without a future. Now, I have a house, a boyfriend, a stable income, and a great group of friends. And for all these five years, I've managed to keep my website up all by myself._

 _I'm not posting this to brag or get my fifteen minutes of fame. I'm posting this because my identity has been a mystery for too long. And the world already has too many unsolved mysteries._

He read it over, then, without hesitation, he pressed 'publish'.

Prussia shut his laptop, then called, "You ready, Mattie?"

Matthew came bounding down the stairs, excited like a kid. "Yeah, let's go!"

The pair exited their house and walked down the street, the light May breeze ruffling their hair. The sky was a pale denim blue, clear and cool, and there was a feeling of optimism in the air. Matthew and Prussia held hands as they walked, not caring about any looks they might get or comments they might overhear. When they reached their destination, a small, often overlooked pet store on one of the main streets, they heard a loud cry of, "Bro!"

A small smirk crossed Matthew's face and he greeted his brother. "Hi Alfie."

"Bro, I'm so excited! It's not every day you get a new pet!" He raved, looping his arm through Arthur's, who stood next to him, his eyebrows twitching in a tic. "I wanna get-"

"Not a dog." Arthur interrupted. "We're getting a cat and that's final."

"But-"

"Dogs are too much work. Like you."

Prussia and Matthew chuckled while Alfred pouted. The four entered the store to see Antonio and Lovino standing in the bird seed aisle with Francis. "Bonjour! I'm just getting some more food for my bird, Pierre."

The store was small and it smelled of animals. The chatter of birds kept in whitewashed cages floated down from their shelves, followed by the meowing from the cats, the occasional bark, and scratching noises coming from rodents. The aisles were close together and tightly packed with food, toys, and cat litter. The shuffling of footsteps and the conversations, all filled with familiar voices, told Prussia and Matthew something had been arranged.

"Ah, comrades, it is nice to be seeing you here!" Ivan smiled. He held two cans of cat food in his hands, presumably for his cat Russia. Yao was letting a dog sniff his hand from inside its cage. Prussia caught a glimpse of Toris in between the aisles, being dragged around by an excited blond.

"Ivan, you came all the way down to Philly to buy cat food?" Matthew queried.

"Someone told me it is your website's fifth birthday! And you are getting a pet to celebrate, da?" He said.

"Yeah!" Prussia answered, unable to keep in his excitement any longer. "I always wanted a bird."

"Hey, Mattie, remember that dog we had as a kid?" Alfred asked.

"That's right. His name was... Kuma... Kuma... Kumachiki? Something like that." Matthew smiled fondly, thinking of the fluffy white dog.

"Kumajiro, dude!" Alfred corrected. "I'd think you would remember his name, you being his favourite after all."

"Well, I'm not the one who picked out such a hard-to-remember name."

"You got me there, bro." Alfred replied.

From that point, the conversation drifted onto other topics, such as cute cat names, what the best kind of bird seed was, and whether or not a frog was a suitable pet for the frog himself. This last one was started by Arthur, and soon turned into friendly bickering between him and Francis. The others turned away, Prussia picking up a yellow bird and Yao chatting to anyone who would listen about what kind of pet he'd like.

Matthew touched Ivan's forearm and asked, "How is Natalya?"

Ivan smiled again, though faintly, more of a ghost of a smile than the real thing. "She is doing better, I am thinking. The doctors tell me she is taking medication. But she also seems happier. She has been spending a lot of time with Lili, a friend of hers, so maybe it is her influence."

"I'm glad to hear that." Matthew said, and he meant it.

Matthew and Ivan were quiet, listening to the surrounding conversations swirl in the air like smoke.

"Bloody frog!"

"C'mon, bro, stop fighting!"

"Oh my God, that would be, like, so totally fabulous."

"Feliks, I don't think the dog would enjoy being dressed in a pink tutu."

"I think I would like an exotic pet."

"It's so small and soft!"

"Lovi, you should introduce him!"

"Right. FRATELLO!"

As Lovino yelled, the pet store fell silent, the owner glaring at them over his spectacles. Padding footsteps ran towards them, followed by heavier ones. A man popped into their aisle.

At first Prussia didn't recognize him. But, as his features came into focus, it was obvious who he was.

Soft reddish hair. Amber eyes. One curl, sticking out of the right side of his head.

"Everyone, this is my brother, Feliciano." Lovino said.

Prussia opened his mouth, but before he could even think of what to say, another man stepped into the aisle.

It was Ludwig.

He was no longer that skinny blond fourteen year old Prussia remembered. He was tall, taller than Prussia now, and he wore a black tank top that showed off his sculpted muscles. A green jacket was slung over his shoulders, and Prussia noticed his iron cross necklace, unconsciously touching his own.

"Bruder?" He asked. Gilbert nodded, and in two swift steps, crushed his little brother in a hug.

The rest looked on, Matthew, Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Ivan, Yao, Toris, Feliks, and Feliciano, as Gilbert and Ludwig hugged.

It had been five years. Five whole years. In those five years, Gilbert had run away, started a website, got a new name, found true love, lost it, and found it again. And now he was reunited with his brother.

* * *

 **The (real) end.**


End file.
